Former American Press staff writer Sunny Brown Farley writes "Naked Faith," a look at faith in its natural form: lived out in the day-to-day lives of ordinary people.

Troubled by Joy

Posted September 9, 2009 at 8:31 am
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It’s not often I lose sleep, but last night was one such rare occasion.

I had Joy on my mind and I was troubled.

I work in college ministry and every Tuesday we open our doors to provide a free lunch to students. They come in and eat and fellowship and experience the love of Christ.

Yesterday, there was a new face amid the sea of students. Among the young, beautiful and energetic student population, Joy stood out a stark contrast.

She was old. She was tired. She was dirty. She was sick.

She moved slowly toward the dining hall and I was drawn to her.

I asked if she was hungry. She said she was looking for something to eat and a quiet place to pray. I told her she had come to just the right place.

We gave her a giant plate of nachos, which she struggled to eat with trembling hands.

She finished her meal and I escorted her to our chapel. It was empty there and the light gently lit the room through stained glass. She said she needed a place to live.

I should have known. When she came in, she had nothing but a plastic grocery bag. In it, I noticed a Bible and some deodorant among other things.

We prayed and I told her I would make some phone calls.

***

I have been a committed Christian since 1997. I have served God in a number of capacities and I have tried to witness my faith to others as best I can.

I know the scriptures. I know our responsibility to God and humankind. I know we are to love the Lord and our neighbors. I know we are called to feed and clothe the poor. I know we are to be the Light in this dark world.

But then there are the realities of Christian ministry. People come in and scam the Church for drug money. They use the money and things we give them to buy cigarettes and booze and pay their cable bills. They pull up to the food pantry in cars nicer than mine. They carry cell phones. They rarely say thanks for anything you do and sometimes, they are actually rude and indignant toward those of us who are trying to help.

I have to admit that I am challenged to set aside my skepticism and frustration more often than not. I have to pray that God keeps me from becoming jaded by the system.

***

I sat in my office while Joy continued to pray in the chapel and I wondered what her story was. She did not strike me as a drug addict. She was coherent and alert. She quoted scripture in her prayers and seemed connected to God.

She was gentle and soft-spoken. She was vague about her circumstances and she did not offer her last name.

She did not want to stay in the local homeless shelter another night. She had been there just one night and felt scared and threatened. I wondered if her fears were founded.

More than anything, I sensed her frustration.

She was trapped. She had no money, no resources, nowhere to go. She was powerless and broken and stuck.

I have a master’s degree. I am connected to a large Christian denomination. I have a background in journalism and I know how to get answers. I spent hours on the phone in search of a place for Joy.

I found nothing.

My messages were not returned. A new shelter in town only accepts men. Joy was short a few hundred dollars in getting into a low-rent apartment we found. There were no places on campus for a non-student.

I didn’t even have any cash to give her because I emptied my wallet at church for a special communion offering.

I tried to tell myself that I did the best I could. I fed Joy and prayed for her. I gave her a cool place to rest for a few hours.

It did not seem like anywhere near enough. Joy shuffled out of our building with her plastic grocery bag and headed down the street to nowhere in particular.

My saddened heart followed her.

I wondered if I should have taken her to my house or if I should have taken her to a hotel and charged it to my credit card. What did the Good Samaritan do after all?

***

And so I lost a good deal of sleep last night wondering if I did the right thing. Indeed, I wondered if I had done anything at all.

All night, I pondered Joy. I hurt for Joy and I prayed for Joy.