I Had No Idea That You Were a Trash Collector

I like to play cards so I own the "Hoyle Card Games" software for my computer so that I can play to my heart's content. I play hearts, spades, euchre, rummy, and canasta. I just LOVE to play cards.

Yesterday I was playing canasta and I picked up the discard pile. Jasper, one of my computerized card playing buddies, said, "I had no idea that you were a trash collector." Hmm. That could be an idea for a blog someday, so I wrote it down. The game continued and I picked up the discard pile again and Jasper's computerized partner, Elayne, says, "You look like your used to sorting through other people's trash." Okay, God, you don't have to tell me twice...well, maybe You do.

Before I became disabled, I spent a lot of time with what our society calls "trash." I spent seven years helping abused women try to make decisions on "what comes next" and educate them in the ways of abused men. Yes, some 75% of them went back to their abuser and society said, "Well, then, they deserve what they get." Do they really? No, they just didn't have enough time, education or money to make a different choice. Most of them had children and their abuser had told them that he would kill both her and her children if she ever left. Mothers, would you make the same decision knowing that a Protective Order is not worth the paper it is printed on and that the abuser would probably only do 30 days and then be out on the street looking for you? Oh, and he would be FURIOUS because you put him in jail. God convicted me that I had to offer what little I had to try and help them and their children despite what society thought.

After that, I taught rehabilitation courses and Bible studies in a women's medium security prison. These women had been convicted of everything from forgery and fraud to assault and involuntary manslaughter. Society thought that these "people" (they were not fellow human beings because of the magnitude of their sin) were getting what they deserved and were not capable of being rehabilitated. Well, the course I taught helped stop that revolving door. Inmates returning to prison went down from 85% to 60%. All because a small group of people thought that these "throw away" people were worth saving.

In both cases, I learned more than I could have ever taught them. At the shelter, I learned to be grateful for God's constant protection of me and my children in a similar situation. At the prison, every time we prayed the inmates would thank God for getting them up that morning. They taught me what it was to be truly grateful for life and all its possibilities.

You know, Jesus was in to "throw away" people. In fact, He spent so much time with them that some of the "sanctified" took offense. In Matthew 9 Jesus calls Matthew, a tax collector, to be one of His disciples. Matthew then invited Jesus over for dinner. I think I'll let Matthew tell you the rest of the story, "Now it happened as Jesus sat at the table in the house that, behold, many tax collectors and sinners came and sat down with Him and His disciples. And when the Pharisees saw it they said to His disciples, ' Why does your Teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?'" Sound familiar?

Many of us prefer our "church friends" and want nothing to do with the sinners. They are scary, particularly now days. Believe me, since I became disabled, I totally understand. I still struggle with the fear of strangers because it would take nothing to seriously injure me. But is that what we are suppose to do? Play it safe?

Jesus gives us the answer in verse 12, "Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. But go and learn what this means: 'I desire mercy and not sacrifice.' For I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance." Ouch!

Since I can no longer drive, I have to find other means to find those who may need the mercy that Christ offers. That is my prayer for this blog. That someone needing Christ's comfort and mercy may read it and realize they are not alone.

So to those who might say to you, "I had no idea you were a trash collector," you can say, "Yes, that is the job that Jesus gave me and I am proud to serve Him."