I remember being homeless.
I remember looking back at the front porch of the last house I lived at before I became homeless and seeing my soon to be ex-husband standing there, with his hands in his pockets, watching us drive away.
There's nothing quite as humbling as discovering that someone you love so deeply, doesn't care, and will never come to get you from a homeless shelter.
I have always been grateful for the help I received there. It was the time in my life when I really had to question who I was, what I had done, and how did I ever get there? I had to face my life in a hard, cold, almost dark way and see the truth without any glitter or sprinkles or anything that made it more palatable to accept. Life was hard, and I had reached the bottom of mine.
The way out was my divorce. I still loved him when I filed, but I knew it was over, and that if I didn't hurry, he might disappear and then I'd never have the chance to find him and really end things. I struggled with my choice, but came to terms when I read some stories on my church's website about women abandoned in other countries, who legally could not get divorced, but also were not legally eligible to work because of their marital status. They were poor and trapped. I realized I was trapped as well, but I was lucky enough to be an American, which meant I could find my way out eventually. In essence, I was lucky I could get a divorce and walk away from that man completely.
I loved that shelter. I remember sitting on the porch with the staff at night, just talking, and how the other families in the shelter got along during that stint. We made dinner for each other, and talked about the horrible things we had gone through. We also kept the place clean, and safe for our children, and talked about our futures together. We had each others back in the truest sense I have ever witnessed in my life.
The staff allowed me to build a nest for my son, who is challenged by Autism, on the floor in our room, and watch a movie before he went to sleep on our portable DVD player. It was the only routine my brain could manage at the time.
They let my daughter sleep in her travel pack and play that I had managed to keep with me during our moves. She cried a lot, and I still remember her cries, and our sleepless nights. Being homeless is a lot to recover from, especially for a child.
It took me a long time to remember that once upon a time, the Savior too was homeless. I had no faith during that time in my life. I only had survival skills. Lots and lots of love for others, for some reason, but my faith was very dim.
I can't imagine homelessness during a time like the Savior lived in. I at least had running water, electricity, food on my table, and a roof over my head. I even had a bed to sleep in and a room for just me and my little family. Locked doors, and staff to protect us while we slept as well.
What was homelessness like during the Savior's time? Was there a roof? Did he have food? We know that there was no indoor plumbing or electricity. People lived from day to day, hoping they had enough to make or buy their own food. They were truly surviving. Instead of being treated as a King, the Savior survived, right along with everyone else.
The other day I came across a homeless man and talked to him. It reminded me of all my kids and I went through and how much that experience changed my life. Due to that, I keep myself educated on the resources in my area - since it will probably never seem that long ago that I was homeless - and I offer advice, support, addresses for homeless shelters, money, and convey confidence in their ability to overcome their circumstances. What I give differs each time by their circumstances, but I now know that to truly be homeless on the street, means you have been completely abandoned. This man in particular had been treated quite poorly. I gave him the name of an organization that I hoped could help him and just listened for five or ten minutes to his story that just broke my heart.
Before I became homeless, I had heard about homeless people who just want the money for another hit, or drink, or whatever. I used to judge that, but now I know, how tough life is once you reach that point. The way back might as well be like climbing out of the Grand Canyon with a hundred or two hundred pound pack on your back, and it's raining or hailing. Just anything you can imagine that would be impossible for you, literally impossible, is what it means to overcome homelessness and that deep feeling it places inside of you.
So, what does it mean when someone as great as the Savior ended up homeless? And what does it mean that he still fulfilled his purposed and became our Savior, despite how utterly and completely he was abandoned by countless people? It means that he never forgot his purpose in this life, and what he was meant to accomplish. It is truly so important that regardless of what we go through in life, we change, we heal, we stop judging, and we try to hard to keep our eyes on the target of what we want our lives to become! Of who we want to become in terms of character as well.
I've heard this a lot in my life, and now I know it to be so true. "But they who wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint." - Isaiah 40:31 Through experiencing homelessness, I now have a better understanding of some of what the Savior suffered through to in the end rise above it all, with eagles wings! We all can find that strength, if we too, find the faith, to "wait upon the Lord".
