They Might Buy Food

I wanted to take a second to reflect on something that I wrestle with. Specifically to give or not to give, when you're encountered on the street by someone who is begging. Almost anyone who lives in a large city or has traveled abroad has to wrestle continually with what to do in these situations. Many people develop a rule or a consistent pattern for dealing with this, whether to never give, to always give, to never give money, to always give whatever. I'm not writing this to criticize a particular perspective or to give my opinion on what is the best, but simply to share out of my struggle.

I was walking to buy some groceries a couple of weeks ago and this guy came riding up to me on a bike. He skids to a stop, hops off, limps and says "brother, brother, I need 2 bucks to get some bandages for my leg". He then lifts up his Jean legs and shows me this horrifying gash about the length AND width of my forearm running down his leg. There's maggots and flies in it and it was everything in me not to vomit. When I was younger, I would've just started emptying my wallet. It saddens me to say that the years and some hurtful experiences have hardened me. I know in many ways it can be for the better, but still, I stared at this obvious need and paused. I knew in my head, and have met in experience, people whose addiction is so deep that they're capable of doing something this atrocious to themselves just to up the anty in pursuing their fix.

As I stood there staring, thoughts ran through my head. The predominant one, a line of thought that I can't stand, "he might buy drugs, he might buy alcohol, he might use it for something bad and then you're supporting that". It's true, he might. Then a thought I've heard less frequently, but one that is more dear to my heart "he might buy food, he might buy the bandages, he might get some water". It's always easier to hold onto the first thought, because you can walk away feeling safe, even if you were wrong.

For me, I don't have a pattern. I fight with all my heart and soul to keep from developing one. I try, as cliché as it might sound, to really let Jesus lead me in these circumstances. Yet, nearly every situation, whether I give or withhold, I walk away. Sometimes I have a sense of peace, sometimes I don't. Developing a pattern would be easier, it might make me feel better, but I feel (at least for myself) that this agonizing and wrestling is a good place where Jesus meets me, a place where He wants me to be.

If I still feel bad, I stay thankful that I'm not in a position like an old missionary to Hong Kong named Jackie Pullinger constantly found herself in. She ministered in the walled city, one of the dingiest red light/drug districts you could find yourself in. She earned the trust of the people and has a powerful ministry to opium addicts. She writes in her book, Chasing the Dragon, about some of the guys who came to trust her coming and asking her for money. They were straight up honest, they were going to use it to buy drugs. The simple answer is NO! I'm a missionary, of course I won't give it to you for that. Yet, she knew these guys well, knew the context, understood the whole picture. She was their last resort, if she didn't give, they were heading out of the walled city to mug, and often murder, someone to get the cash they needed for their fix. To give, was to support the drug habit and impending death of her friend in front of her, but to not give might cost the life of someone else. She said, she never stopped wrestling with what she should do.