i like to help people. it feels good.
i like to align myself with a cause. i feel good about myself.
as long as the people are deserving. and the cause is worthy.
what if it isn't? what if the one in need is a teen mom or the cause is those incarcerated for their misdeeds?
today i heard the story of the good samaritan again. of course it stirred compassion inside me. for the sick. the impoverished. the orphans in africa. kids with cancer. make a wish. ronald mcdonald house. operation christmas child.
those are all good things. i have participated in them all and will continue to do so. but what if the person laying bloody and half dead in the ditch did it to themselves? what if they aren't innocent. what if they aren't a victim of anything but their own poor choices? if i help them, won't it condone their behavior? won't they most likely end up in the ditch again?
today i was thinking maybe it doesn't matter. today i was challenged to marinate in the truth that i am that bloody, helpless, half-dead individual. and even more true is the fact that i did it to myself. if there was ever a time to say "you made your bed, now lie in it" it was the moment Christ looked at me. if anyone were so perfect and anyone so sinful it was him and me. i couldn't even promise him that i'd do better next time. that i wouldn't end up run into a ditch again. i couldn't clean up, get a job, and show that i was ready for assistance. i couldn't do anything.
people that need help are often messy. addiction, mental illness, homelessness, foster care...they are not cut and dry like a disease who ravages an "innocent victim". there is no racing for a "cure" or no dollar amount to "sponsor" someone out of their needy state. but as a messy person in need of help because of my own foolishness i am so glad Jesus didn't pass by. and now i hope i will stop. and have compassion. especially when it is "undeserved".