I have lived in Springfield for twenty years. I know all the street corner names, best coffee shops, and the best restaurants in town. However, if you asked me about the homeless situation in Springfield, I would respond with something along the lines of, “It’s a problem.” That’s it. I could name a few statistics about homelessness but it was something I rarely kept in mind. This day at Haywood Street Congregation in Asheville changed my entire perspective on homelessness.
I sat next to a man named Rusty. Yes, his name was Rusty. He was quiet and gave the impression he wanted nothing to do with me. It was awkward and my initial reaction was to get up and talk to someone else but something was telling me to stay. After a couple of strenuous minutes, he began to ask me questions about myself. What was my name? Where am I from? And did I believe in God? The third question threw me off guard and I told him my view point on religion. I could feel he wanted to tell me about God and his connections with Him. I could hear the passion behind his stories how much God meant to him. In one story, Rusty explained to me that he was going through a tough time with addiction. He told God he wanted to see something white and pure and be reminded that His presence was with him. The next morning, he woke up and there were six white roses directly outside of his tent.
The main part that speaks to me is that Rusty had nothing. He had a shaggy beard and backpack for the past seven years in Ashville. However, I can distinctively remember the love he had for God and how much he wanted me to find that love. Such a wonderful emotion that touched me to a place in my heart that has been gated in years.
This day at Haywood taught me that we are all human. It does not matter if you are from Springfield or Ashville, housed or homeless, Christian or not; we are all capable of sharing and receiving love.