Crazy Love

I finally finished this book. Ask me on any given day what I am currently reading, and I will answer with two or three titles--all of which I am genuinely currently reading. It usually works well, but sometimes I end up re-starting the book every time I pick it up because I cannot remember what previously happened. Such was the case with Crazy Love by Francis Chan. I recommend it. It was not life-changing, but it reinforced and brought to my mind several thoughts and ideas, mostly related to my last post.

At some point in the book, Francis Chan described a moment in his life when he felt totally prepared and pumped up to go serve the homeless people where he lived at the time. He got everything ready, and to my understanding, basically hopped in the car and was on his way when he realized he had no idea where to go. He had no idea where the homeless people were, and did not even know any poor or needy people he could help. As I read this part, I just thought wow, now that's something, and continued reading. He eventually made the point that he then realized his circle was too small...and so forth and so on.

Fast forward to the end of the book, where he tells stories of sacrifices that people have made. There were several incredible stories, but one stood out to me more than the rest. I read and reread this one story, cried about it (duh), and shared it with Ryan. From the book:

The Robynson Family

This family of five, with three kids under the age of ten, chooses to celebrate the birth of Christ in a unique way. On Christmas mornings, instead of focusing on the presents under the tree, they make pancakes, brew an urn of coffee, and head downtown. Once there, they load the coffee and food into the back of a red wagon. Then, with the eager help of their three-year-old, they pull the wagon around the mostly empty streets in search of homeless folks to offer a warm and filling breakfast on Christmas morning. All three of the Robynson kids look forward to this time of giving a little bit of tangible love to people who otherwise would have been cold and probably without breakfast.

The tears ensue. :) I immediately knew that I should do something similar, but I came to a startling thought: just like Francis Chan, I have no idea where to go. I do not know where to even find the obviously needy. I try to justify it by saying that "I would know where to find them in Little Rock, but since I'm new here..." blah blah, a bunch of bull. I have not seen a homeless person since I have moved to northwest Arkansas, and I doubt there is any shortage of them. (Did that last sentence sound weird to you? It did to me, too.) It's not even just about the homeless. I'm dumbfounded that I don't even know someone I can help. I know they are right under my nose, which makes it even worse. 

Nonetheless, I finished this book 3 weeks ago, and I still can't shake the magnitude of "giving up" a Christmas morning to serve someone else. It definitely puts a fresh perspective on Christmas. What would a homeless person think if a Christian took time away from opening presents to lovingly serve them a warm meal instead?