Watch

Verb: "to keep vigil as a devotional exercise" or "to be awake during the night"

Right now we're blessed with some crazy awesome weather that's reminiscent of my mind's memories of Florida at night during the summer. A little bit of humidity in the air, a light wind blows and catches my hair's loose pieces, as I walk underneath a hazy sky that's dense with rain aching to fall.

I near Barney Ellis Plaza downtown right at lunch time. My stomach screeches, gurgles, and eagerly anticipates veggies and hummus and a tuna sandwich I lovingly made 4 hours ago. Rob Bell is perfectly preaching in my iPod's earbugs...I'm present, but focused on his words. They seem to mirror the scene unfolding before me.

Rob's in the middle of a series on the "Flames of Heaven," and I'm in the thick of Vol. 2. The basic concept of this series is that if heaven and earth collided today, and we had to exist under heaven's rules, we'd probably need to do some adapting really fast. We can avoid the fiery burn of this transition (probably hotter than hell) if we started practicing good, pure, just things right now while we're on earth. Really light stuff, I know. But I'm eating it up. It's like contemplating the Matrix or something. I love the abstractness.

In the middle of the sermon (and my de-lish sandwich), Rob asks, "would you be comfortable with someone 'different' sitting next to you at the banquet? Someone homeless, someone of a different race or sexual belief...would that be uncomfortable?" Before my mind can even start to process, I see this scene unfolding in front of me.

Barney Ellis Plaza is a safe place to chill for some of downtown's homeless. They mostly pass through and leave people alone, but if you walk the diagonal path across the park, they'll stop you and ask for money.

I saw two businessmen walk by and ignore an elderly man with a crutch when he engaged them in conversation. They weren't rude, they probably didn't want to give him money, and I don't even know if he asked. (As a passive watcher 100 feet away, I guessed that he asked for money.) What awed me was that they didn't even acknowledge his presence. They didn't answer whatever question it was that he asked. I was struck by how non-existent a human being could be.

Then, I saw a beautiful moment.

Not even 40 steps later, he stopped a twenty-something man. And, while I didn't see any money change hands (pockets were effectively patted), they TALKED. For a minute or so they stood, then the young man dug out two cigarettes and gestured for the old man to sit with him. They only talked for a few more minutes, but I was riveted by how beautiful the interaction was. He cared.

As a woman, I'm sort of hesitant to engage complete strangers. But I'm going to keep praying to be that present that I can step in and be a comfort to people at a moment's notice. Whether at Starbucks, Barney Ellis Plaza, our workplace, or our own homes, there is a desperate need for someone to sit and engage the loneliest of our brethren.

People are routinely ignored. Some people choose it, but I'd say it's our fault if someone can go an entire day without a personal interaction. Not just a transaction, like handing over a cup of coffee, but a interaction, where I ask a question, sit down for a moment or offer a small creature comfort, like a cigarette.

I would have missed this any other day. Maybe it was the beautiful weather that slowed me down, but I've been praying for slowness a lot. I've been seeking solitude, and beautiful moments like this keep popping up. I'm thankful for the lesson I learned from a twenty-something man. Today, he redeemed humanity a little bit...right before my watchful, slowed down eyes.