and i said, break my heart for what breaks yours...

he walked past the wide window right in front of me. i sat there, ignorantly. drinking a latte, laughing... something, perhaps movement, caught my eye, and like a string tugging on left side of my head, i looked over at the man walking away from me, looked back and continued my conversation. i slammed on the breaks, mentally reversed. i had seen him, my brain took in a picture, but i didn't have a chance to think on it until a few moments later. .as my mind was analyzing the last few sentences i heard, the last few sounds and pictures, this image of a man stood almost at a halt in front of all the other things lined up waiting to be analyzed. his skin was red and raw, from a harsh windburn maybe. for what it seems, his red weathered skin may have been the result of years of emotional, physical and mental stress that made its way from his inwards to his outwards. he walked as if attached to his right leg was a heavy weight... the shoes he wore on his feet were worn down, ripping along the seems. on one shoe, the lace had been torn and so opposite his limp, he drug his foot to keep his shoe from slipping off. his jeans were dirty, as was his jacket. crippled fingers poked from beneath the hem of his over sized and outdated jacket. fingernails needing to be trimmed had dirt beneath them, and the upsides of his hands looked as if he had been digging through dirt and blackberry bushes... torn, weathered.... the collar of his jacket came around his face, as if he was trying to hide as much of himself as he could. although his head was hung low, i caught a glimpse of his eyes, that i am sure i could never forget. they were so blue, but at the same time - almost white. they looked like the saturation had been stripped from them and all that was left was a thin layer of light blue on a stark white eye. his eyes were like nothing i've ever seen. piercing, i don't think, would be too strong a word. his patchy silver whiskers made a poor excuse for a beard.

my eyes quite obviously looked him up and down several times within a couple of seconds, taking in everything about this character. it took another moment for my eyes and mind to connect, but when they did, and when i realized what was right in front of me, i think it was also quite obvious that i felt as if a wrecking ball had been swung right into my stomach. i wasnt frightened in the least to approach him, i wanted to rush out and invite him to sit with me interview style. i wanted to bless him, to hear his story, to fix him. fix him... my arrogance frustrates me. fix him... i cant fix him...

again, as my minds eye runs up and down this character walking past the wide window in front of me, i feel as if the entire contents of my stomach are being forced upward as my whole body shifts into vertigo. i was at a loss... for words. i was too slow to action, though i wanted to leap from my seat and bring him by the arm to the table i sat with my friend, again.. my arrogance... ugh. to ask such a man who so evidently has been brought down to almost complete ruin by either his life's consequences or someone else's? to sit with... me? honestly, i wanted to run after him and stop him. i wanted to bring him in, clothe him, feed him, hear his story, bless him, pray for him and let him go, but that stupid wrecking ball had left me shambles. i panicked...

i wonder what thoughts were going through his head as he limped quickly past the window. . . was he trying to think of where he would find money to get the bus from here to the salvation army? was he thinking of where he could find an ash tray for fresh smoke butt? was he wishing he had an address to give to register for a blue hospital card? was he trying to find an excuse to walk into mcdonalds, so he didnt have to walk up and down, up and down the streets? i dont know. maybe i shouldnt know. all i can do is wonder. but this man left me feeling so... useless almost. my arrogance shattered me to the core, showing myself how unthankful i am for what i have. i am thankful, i am. but i dont realize how blessed i am, and how careless i am with my blessings.

it just occurred to me now that a common prayer of mine is "break my heart for what breaks yours"... maybe the purpose of seeing this man was to make me realize how blessed i am, and to consciously be aware and much less careless... or maybe it was to break my heart for what breaks his. maybe it was an opportunity to be the arms of jesus... i dont know. i know that this memory i have will be a difficult one to erase. although, at the moment i wish it would go, because i have a headache from crying over his face that is the reason for this post...