I was telling a friend of mine not so long ago about being incarcerated and how I found a way to partially escape the harshness of being imprisoned, (if only for a moment or two). I discovered that if I jumped up and grabbed onto the bars of the small window in my cell, that I could raise myself up and see a little patch of blue sky peeking through a corner of another tiny window located outside my cell and approximately 20 feet high up above me.
While that might not sound like much to you, that little patch of blue meant a lot to me. It represented hope. On a daily basis I would literally wear myself out by periodically jumping up and grabbing hold of those bars, and then using all my strength to pull myself up to catch a glimpse of that little patch of blue. I would hold myself in that position until my strength literally gave way, and I collapsed back down into my small cell.
Unlike most people I’ve met in prison I could never acclimate to the starkness and bleakness of being incarcerated. I hated the constant din of prisoners yelling and talking, the clanging of steel doors shutting, walking yellow lines, being told when to get up and when to go to sleep, and the incessant sound of flushing toilets. I wanted my freedom, and that little patch of blue kept that hope of being free again alive in my heart.
One time I went to a fund raiser for the Chelsea House, a homeless shelter for women. A few of them recounted their stories of the horror of living on the street that included constant danger from sexual predators, physical abuse, being cold and hungry, and the uncertainty of where to go and what to do next. It brought back dark memories of my life on the street and the hopelessness that accompanied it.
On the way home from the event my wife who has always lived a sheltered, comfortable life surrounded by loved ones told me that she could not even relate or really understand how these women must feel. She’s been so far removed from anything remotely like life on the street that she has a difficult time understanding their plight.
Not so for me, I know exactly how those ladies feel to be homeless and hopeless. I remember hitch hiking and hopping freights all over the country and I know all too well the danger of life on the street where life is cheap, and violence is commonplace.
I remembered when it started getting dark how I would begin looking in earnest for a place to sleep for the night. If it was really cold, it made it all the more urgent to find a warm spot to lie down for a restless night. Up north most houses have an entrance similar to a mudroom that is separated from the front door. While unheated those little entrances did provide relief from the bitter cold, freezing rain, and snow. Invariably they would be unlocked and I would sneak onto them after dark, and sleep a fitful few hours, on the hard floor of those porches and leave right before daylight. If I could find a church that was unlocked I would sleep on the pews or the carpeted floor. But, most times I would just sleep on the side of the road or up under a bridge somewhere in a little sleeping bag given to me by the Salvation Army. I would stare up into the stars of the inky black sky and wish I’d never been born to lead such a miserable existence.
As I was reviewing this in my mind this morning I thought of that little patch of blue. It reminded me of God and while we might not be aware of His presence and might have given up all hope that our situation might ever improve, God is always there for us and thus there is hope.
The Chelsea House is those Tallahassee Florida women’s “little patch of blue”. It has literally saved some of their lives and has improved all of their lives. Several of those women sang a beautiful song last night and yes I detected slight smiles on their otherwise sad faces. The lyrics reminded me of my little patch of blue and how everyone has one, and if we would only “open the eyes of our hearts” we could see our God, the One who stands ready to redeem and rescue us.
Open the eyes of my heart, Lord
Open the eyes of my heart
I want to see You
I want to see You
Open the eyes of my heart, Lord
Open the eyes of my heart
I want to see You
I want to see You
To see You high and lifted up
Shinin’ in the light of Your glory
If you are down and out about one thing or another today, look for your little patch of blue. I guarantee if you look for it you will find it and it is sure to put a smile on your face, (even if you want to cry). If everything is vanilla in your life today, maybe you could consider making a gift to a good cause, (perhaps even the Chelsea House), to celebrate your good fortune. To my way of thinking, by doing either you will “open the eyes to your heart” and allow you to see your loving Father and cry: Holy, Holy, Holy . . .
Gen 28:15
I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go . . .
Have a great weekend and go to church this Sunday!