I am with them all.

I am with them all.

(This happened to me one evening while working at the Bethesda Mission in Harrisburg PA.)

It was cold and rainy outside, cloudy and overcast. I did not expect a lot of the homeless to show up that afternoon for the evening meal that we, the Bethesda Mission (supported by all types of Christians and non Christians in the Harrisburg area with Bethesda meaning "pool of mercy") provide every day of the week for those who can make it over. To my surprise I saw three homeless people sitting out in the cold rain waiting for us to open in ten minutes. I had only been working there a few weeks, and I enjoyed welcoming them in for the meal. I wanted to look them in the eye with a big smile and say, "Welcome. It’s nice to have you."

Many of them did not look me in the eye for the first few weeks, but as they began to know me they would look up and say, "It’s nice to be here. Thank you for having me."
This particular evening was no different other than the cold rain coming down. But as I went over to open the door I peered out to see who was there, and to my amazement I saw over 20 who made it through the foul weather. As I opened the door and let them in, a few minutes early, I noticed a small figure in the line. "Nice to see you. Thanks for coming," I said. She did not look up at me nor did she say anything to me.

I prayed, and they went through the line and filled their trays with vegetables, mashed potatoes, gravy and chicken. Dessert was on the dessert tables. The regular dinner talk and chatter began. They were happy to be inside and eating a nice warm dinner. As they emptied their trays and put back their cups I would make sure I was there saying, "Thanks for coming. It was nice to see you." And again they would express that they were glad we were there.

I saw the small figure sitting with her head down, her face covered with two hooded sweatshirts. I made it a point to say hello—she did not answer. I thanked a few more as they finished, and I saw the little lady placing her tray over at the wash window, and she turned to head down the hallway. "Thanks for coming," I said again as she walked past me. She did not respond so I said it again. She took two more steps and stopped.

She slowly turned and looked up at me to reveal beautiful, deep-blue eyes. She said, "Are you talking to me? No one talks to me. Thank you for talking to me." I saw tears trickling down from her eyes, and she lowered her head and walked down the hall. My heart was touched, choked up, and then I saw Him. Walking right beside her, down the hall, headed outside into the cold, damp and misty evening.

"I am with her," He spoke in my heart. "I am with her." Suddenly I saw a dark street in Harrisburg with a lonely homeless person walking with the same figure along side. Then two. Then many streets and many cities. And He spoke to my heart again, "I am with them all."

The tears now flowed down my own cheeks as I began to weep even louder. The strength leaving my legs, I began to lean on the wall sobbing. In a moment, I would be groaning, and I pushed myself to the men’s room to hide in a stall as I wept uncontrollably. "Yes Lord, you know them all. You know all their pain, their long and lonely lives. You know the streets of the forgotten. The lost. The sick. You know them all."