The invisible ones

    The smell stayed in my nostrils all evening: the smell of rotting flesh. As we sat at the hospital and watched him go into the room to see a Dr., we saw the trail of blood and decay that was seeping from his shoes. I tried not to gag as he lifted both pant legs to show what looked like completely rotten flesh from his knees down to his feet, as well as one hand with two swollen, gangrenous looking fingers.
   The IM team in Radom, Poland, serves the homeless in various ways throughout the week and every Sunday they go to an underpass to feed all who come. They provide them sandwiches, fruit, and hot tea or coffee. They listen to them, hug them, wipe them off, bandage them up, get them basic medications from the pharmacies, and in extreme cases take them to the hospitals. Every year, many of them experience extreme frostbite and the end result is rotting flesh. Because they live on the streets and the vast majority are alcoholics, they don't take very good care of themselves and some are literally rotting away.
   As I poured cup after cup of coffee and tea, I thought about how many times I've averted my eyes and hurried past these people. They've ended up on the streets for various reasons and have become the mostly invisible pariahs of society. As I watched the team greet them by name, shake their hands, hug them, laugh with them, and just show them that they care, I was humbled by the love of Christ that I saw demonstrated that night. They had never met the man with the rotting legs before, but didn't hesitate to put him in the car, drive him to a hospital, then back to a Dr., then back to the hospital(it's the system for those without proper ID & paperwork), then find him a place to stay the night and got up early the next morning to meet him again at the hospital.
   What love. Love for the lost. Love for the unlovable. Would I have done it? Would you? Are you able to look past the filth and see the creation of the Creator? What if He shunned us as we shun them? We see the filth and scars and smell the stench of unwashed bodies. He looks at us and sees the same and yet, opens His arms and says, "Come. Come as you are. All you who are broken and needy, come and find rest." I pray that my eyes will be opened more and more to see each and every one of God's creation as He sees them: hurting, lost people in need of a Savior.