God Will Bring Healing. But in His Time, not Ours.
A few weeks ago a poor lady came up and sat next to me in the pew at church. She's frequently there begging for money for the bus before Mass. She asked me for money and that particular day I didn't have any to give her. She said to me "That's okay. I know you would if you had it."
I don't know if I was deserving of that comment, but it said something about what this woman thought of me.
That particular day at work, my team had a great success and accolades were flying via email from our directors. I noticed at the end of the day that those accolades weren't really touching me, but that the lady's comment to me that morning was still on my heart.
I got to thinking about how I measure my life and success. How I have changed. Those successes at work used to mean the world to me. Now, they mean close to nothing.
As I was driving home thinking about all of this, I concluded, if I am nothing else in this world, let me be a friend to the poor -- the poor in material blessings and the poor in spirit. Let them know that they can count on me as a giver of what they need. Let them always know they have a seat welcome right next to me at church.
Let the poor tell me who I am. They are my measuring stick.