At the Temple Gate Called Beautiful

The following post is by Laura Boggess of The Wellspring. She has joined the 12 Days of Community with High Callings Blog and promoted ChristmasChange with an amazing and practical idea on saving your Christmas change this year. That link is also in the sidebar. Enjoy!

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At the Temple Gate Called Beautiful

Every day people pass him by on their way into the temple. Some take pity; throw him a few spare coins. Others look right through him as if he does not exist. Still others, on their way to worship nonetheless, look at him in scorn and anger, resenting the intrusion that his meager existence creates on their conscience.

But one day everything would change.

“Look at us!” Peter said.

And in doing so a crippled beggar was made whole. In the name of Jesus he was healed.

I, too, pass through my own gates Beautiful. On my way to the grocery store, to and from work, driving back from the shopping mall…

They are always there, reaching out their empty hands to me. In the eyes of a hungry child on television. Or the sound of the Salvation Army bell ringing. The March of Dimes, St. Jude’s, the Red Cross, the American Cancer Society…everywhere I turn my help is implored.

At the place called Beautiful, too often I avert my eyes to the not so beautiful. I turn my back on a work of God’s own hands.

But one day, everything would change.

As I come to a halt at the stoplight, a man with only one leg stands at the intersection.

“Homeless Veteran”, his sign reads. “Will work for food.”

If I roll down my window, I can reach out and touch him.

I want to invoke the name of our Lord and impart that healing that took place at the gate called Beautiful so long ago. But I cannot make this man whole. Only the Lord knows the circumstances of his life. Only the Lord knows what led him to this street corner holding up his sign of need.

I roll down the window.

“May God bless you,” I say, as I slip the folded bill into his dirty hand.

And I look at him. Into his eyes. I see him. I see a person. A real live work of God. And I smile.

And for just one moment he sees Jesus.

It is I who is healed in this giving.

As I drive away, the smell of stale cigarettes and unwashed flesh lingers on my hand. I want to wash it away. Instead, I hold my fingers against my nose and softly breathe in the sharp aroma of sorrow.

And for just one moment, I see Jesus.

Tagged as: Guest Bloggers, the Gospel, the Labor