So one of my most favorite places in the whole of New York is Tompkin's Square Park in Manhattan, East Village. It's not the most comfortable place - where you can just sit down and eat your sandwich for late lunch or stop to have a coffee break on a bench. I mean, you can... but if you were to really open your eyes - that cup of coffee or that sandwich would soon travel to someone else's hands.
People live there. On the same benches many stop to have their coffee and sandwich breaks - not that I am saying we should not - but the reality is this --- the bench you and I sit to chill and catch a break, for someone - it may be home... a bed.
So we went there yesterday, to the park. With a bag of clothing, tea and coffee and a prayer station. And I am thinking as I make circles around the park, now and then stopping at random people just to talk... what is different about me. I have no money. Literally. My bank account had reached the pit of despair =P to like 10 dollars or so. I have no insurance and no idea what tomorrow will be/look like...But... I don't know what it's like to call a bench my home. I have a bed, 3 meals per day and two bags of frozen muffins made specially for me. Why? I have no answer. God's grace? His mercy? He is good. Yes- He is good. But just because I sleep in bed and Chris, a satan worshipper and an addict sleeps on a bench - does that change the Truth that God is good?
Okay, honestly, it is easy for me to say that the right answer is "no, that does not change anything..." Though my account is semi-empty, I still have a bed, 3 meals and those frozen muffins.
God... let me not be content with those 3 meals and yummy muffins - I need food that comes down from Heaven, from where your Kingship is perfect.
and God... have mercy on me and those who call benches their home. I don't know their pain and anger, but I know you do, the One who endured the greatest pain, rejection and betrayal.
...for all really is grace...
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