The hope we carry by Eron Perry
I was in the process of shutting up shop late Wednesday afternoon. Wednesday afternoon is the threshold for my day off. My day of rest. I had just locked up the church hall and was walking back to the church office when a gentleman appeared out of nowhere. I learnt that he was a rough sleeper, a person experiencing homelessness. Let’s call him Bill. His ‘camp’ along the banks of the Coomera River had been packed up by a local council enforcement officer and moved him out of the area. Bill didn’t want any trouble. He didn’t want to trouble me. But he was hungry, and looked visibly tired and worn out, much like Bilbo Baggins says, “like butter scraped over too much bread”. He carried two full bags, one sitting on his chest, one sitting on his back, a counterbalance of his worldly possessions packed tightly together.
Behind his long scraggly beard and dirty face, you could see Bill was gently troubled in his spirit. He wanted only to be left alone, to have food in his belly and have somewhere safe to rest his head. We talked politics, both local and state. He said he had no friends. Bill said he wanted to be invisible to the world. Of the food I offered him he only took two tins, one juice popper and a packet of biscuits. The sardines were politely refused. Upon returning after putting away the sardines, Bill had gone. Invisible once again.
Bill and Bill-like characters are not uncommon in Burleigh. But his story and our fellowship has stayed with me. Maybe it is because I have been studying hope in my Lenten studies and also preparing to preach on hope as we start a three-week pulpit swap. But I found myself wondering how much hope Bill carried. For my part the conversation ended way too soon. I wanted to share hope with him. The hope I find in Jesus, the hope filled future I believe in. But Bill had gone. I hope that the tinned food, biscuits and juice popper was hope enough for Bill that day.
It begs the questions, what hope do you hold onto? Psalm 25.1: “In you, O Lord my God, have I put my hope”. Does this hope bounce in on itself or does it seek the horizon? Does the hope you hold onto bring hope to others as well?
Blessings on your Lenten wrestle,
Rev. Eron.