Forgotten Sleep

go I. There are many times in my life when I find this singular phrase running through my mind. When I see a mother with a child who suffers from severe disabilities. When I see someone who has suffered a disfiguring injury. Perhaps one of the hardest things for me to see, though, is the person who has lost it all, who has been reduced to begging in the streets, who has no substantial place to call home.

I saw something today that solidified my understanding that there are people out there who have, for lack of a better phrase, fallen on such hard times that they literally have next to nothing left. I don’t often have a chance to look at the scenery when I’m driving home. But today, Loving Husband picked me up, so I had the opportunity to scan my surroundings. As we passed through an intersection at an overpass to the main highway in our area, something red caught my eye on the side of the road.

It was a red tent. And there was no mistaking that the tent had not been placed their for recreational camping. No one camps in a small patch of trees that sits on a triangular piece of land between the interstate, the overpass and the off-ramp. Someone was living there. It was hidden enough so that people who are driving by are unlikely to see it. My sighting was simply by chance.

It was in relatively good condition, but it certainly wasn’t a tent meant to withstand the plummeting temperatures that we have experienced recently. Given its location, it isn’t all that safe. I suppose, though, that it would be convenient. Close to a bathroom at the gas station, there were a few places to find something to eat nearby and the constant flow of cars with a traffic light probably makes it a “profitable” place to stay.

Then, in a flash, it was gone. We had passed it, and we continued on with our conversation. I didn’t even break stride with my sentence. It was a fleeting image, but even that brief moment left a mark on my conscience. I am constantly appalled and shocked that people are allowed to live like this in the United States. Regardless of our economic climate, we are still the wealthiest nation on the planet, and, yet, we turn a blind eye to these people. They become invisible.

Clearly, acknowledging the poverty, the despair and the vulnerability makes us uncomfortable. But many of us are really only a paycheck or two away from being in the same type of position. Maybe we have relatives on whom we could depend for a while, but, in reality, we are all susceptible to finding ourselves with nothing and no options.

So, tonight when I’m lying in bed, surrounded by darkness, safe, warm and well-fed, I’ll thank God for the mercies He’s shown to me and my family. For His generosity, His compassion, His protection. Every now and then, I guess I just need to be reminded that I am who I am because of Him. I’m blessed to have God’s grace.

And, I’ll say a prayer for the inhabitant of the red tent.