I wish you well; keep warm and well fed

I saw a homeless man today. Oh, I've seen homeless people before but this was different. This was in my neighborhood and, believe me, folks, I live in a much nicer neighborhood than I used to and you just don't see that kind of thing in this neighborhood. It was one of those up-close-and-personal-what-are-YOU-going-to-do-about-it moments. 

I must confess that I considered calling the police so he would be encouraged to move along. (To where? Where is the appropriate place for a homeless person?) And I hope it doesn't sound trite but my next thought really was, "Well, what would Jesus do?" That one stumped me. What would Jesus do? Invite the man over for lunch? Offer him a room until he got back on his feet?
I don't know.

It was obvious this was not your run of the mill, mentally deranged homeless wanderer. His 4 garden carts were packed with plastic bins and matched luggage, lashed down with bungee cords. Everything was neat, orderly, and clean as if he had recently come upon this state. So I pondered as I walked past. What should I do? How do I help? How do I make a difference for this one person? How do I show him the love of God? 

"Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to him, 'Go, I wish you well; keep warm and well fed,' but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it?" James 2:15-16 So Rascal and I walked home, made a hearty lunch, tossed it in a bag, and walked back, all the while assailed by doubts. What if this guy actually is a deranged lunatic? What if he has allergies and my lunch sends him into anaphylactic shock and he dies? (Breaking News: Local Do-Gooder Inadvertently Kills Man) Okay, people, I didn't say it was logical, just that I had doubts. Believe me, I have a very vivid imagination. But back we walked, regardless, me and my canine body guard who mistakenly thought he was going for two walks in one morning. His doggy heart was singing for joy while mine pounded with trepidation. 

I was almost hoping that when we turned the last corner the man and all his worldly possessions would have moved on. He hadn't. He was eating what looked like soup out of a can. I pushed down my fears, walked up (keeping his cart between us just in case he actually turned out to be crazed and lunged at me with a knife), looked him in the eyes and said, "Here are some sandwiches and some fruit." He seemed surprised and very graciously responded, "Thank you very much." I said "God bless you", turned and walked away, too scared to stay and engage him in conversation. 

I hope our brief encounter made a difference for him, and if nothing else, let him know that someone cared. What I did wasn't much and wouldn't change the circumstances of his life. It raised more questions for me than it answered but I did leave with the feeling that I had done what Jesus wanted me to do.