tarp dwellers

you fill our hearts with more than we can hold inside

i spent a week trying to shake the memory from my mind, and for a few days i succeeded in doing just that, but now it seems i'm stuck with it.
she was tiny and round. maybe four and half feet tall. the fat baby she was holding just made her seem smaller. she was smiling though, her cheeks raised as high as they would go. there was a sense of pride in her eyes. but something was missing. something didn't quite fit.
it wasn't the fact that we were on the street, a tarp set up as a sidewalk home in front of us, or that there was a new baby who was forced to call this home. something else.

she showed him off to us, her words were animated without being too loud and i couldn't understand. we all congratulated her, fawned over the new baby boy and told her he was perfect, then proceeded past the gate and onto the path that led us to Monica House. as we walked he started telling me about her, "you know she's got a couple more kids. she just keeps them while they're babies and then hands them off to Shishu. She's just using them." his face was shadowed with disdain, a look i'd never seen from him. i wanted to yell out "i told you so!" to the part of me that had denied the uneasy feelings. but my heart was breaking.

humanity was failing me, again, miserably.

there's a part of me that still cannot make sense of it. we use each other as a means to an end. all of us. we've failed to see our fellow human beings as being just that, fully human. we place a price tag on humanity and value all the wrong things. if Jesus said the kingdom belongs to those we value least then we are fools to believe we can take it with our secrets and keys and steps.

Hebrews says that " we are receiving a kingdom which cannot be shaken"

i cried the day i let the old man pull me in his cart. his thin legs looked so fragile, like they could break at the next push of the bike pedals. the others laughed, my heart broke for them too. it's all they've known. and i cannot say my tears were shed out of love more than pity (i can't know for sure), so i resign.

but it seems Jesus was about handing over the kingdom to the most used rather than selling it to the ones who denied any wrong in their misuse of their fellow man.
so that's what i want to be a part of, investing in the seemingly bankrupt.
and letting the seemingly bankrupt in me be made rich with his love.