What Do We Really Need?

So as I sat there on that cold bench, after offering her my untouched and still warm dinner, and began to talk with her about why she claimed to be "broke and homeless." After five minutes of listening, I realized, not all beggars are beggars and not all people who say they are in desperate need, are in desperate need.

For being so skeptical of people, at times I let my guard down and can be either extremely gullible or substantially naive. People just floor me from time to time. Although naive and gullible are neck and neck on most days, on this particular day, I have to say, my hope to see the best in mankind (despite her obvious and unfortunate circumstances) got the best of me.

Anyhow - it was drizzling and I was snugly-bugly safe in my car on my way back to work with bag of McHeartattack or something…

I saw her sitting all by her lonesome, there on the corner with her homemade cardboard sign which declared in bold, black letters, "Broke. Homeless. Need Help." I thought to myself, "It's just not right that there is actually someone in America that is broke and homeless." And at that point, because I had already filled my do-good-things-so-you-can-feel-better-about-yourself quota, I summarily passed her by. (Oh! Like YOU'VE never done that!)

Long story short - I had a 30 second argument with God where I told Him I really needed my McGreasy cheeseburger. I needed my fat-loaded french fries and my give-you-a-quick-burst-of-fake-energy-right-before-it-makes-you-crash soda pop. How else was I going to survive through the next few hours without my bi-monthly dose of super nutritional, highly vitamin fortified fast food? For some reason, I didn't think God viewed it quite that way, so I begrudgingly turned the car around and parked in an adjacent lot not too far away. As I hopped out, I grabbed my McLardo sandwich and drink, walked on over and plopped down on the bench next to her.

She was a big gal – like me, she didn’t appear to have issues foraging for food, but for the most part, I really tried to be non-judgmental, after all, who would want to endure the rain and cold and wet, just to beg for spare change? So, I decided to listen. At first I was sympathetic, tried hard to be objective, but the more she spoke, the more I realized her sign and her story were two very different things.

The real kicker came when I offered her my dinner. For a split second, there flashed over her face such a look of unenthusiastic disgruntledness, that I instantly felt the way one does after asking a child to eat all their lima beans. It was then the 7-watt light bulb in my noggin finally lit-up. At that point, she knew her scam was up and she basically proceeded to tell me she wasn't "broke" after all. Turns out, she wasn't really homeless either. Not that I wanted her to be destitute, but once I learned her "real" story, something happened to the once strong sense of sympathy I had for this woman. In an instant, it became almost non-existent. Poof! Like a little discombobulated cough of smoke, I sputtered and spun in a somewhat confused and disbelieving state, my compassion having taken the first exit off the highway of gullibility: she was a fake and both of us knew it.

Needless to say, after that, the conversion turned extremely uncomfortable (she had my dinner...she wasn't broke...she had my dinner...she wasn't homeless...have I mentioned she had my dinner?) and it became quickly apparent, she didn't want the kind of help I was offering, so after a while, I politely disengaged from the conversation and meandered on back to my car where I sat for a few minutes, not quite sure how I felt about all that had just transpired.

Now, I'll be the first one to admit I shouldn't be judging this poor soul. Obviously, regardless of the reasons why she was sitting there, or whether it was culturally responsible for her to be sitting there, is really beside the point. She obviously thought she was in need of what she was asking for.

It did set me to thinking though: why do almost all Americans act like this lady, at least in some way or another? Why do we all feel we need things when what we really need a good smack in the back of the head to remind us why we should choose to use that word in a more careful manner. I need the Vera Wang dress. I need the EX model. I need my Starbucks. I need my Xbox 360 Elite Gaming Console with 120GB hard drive. I mean, do we really need what we say we need? I saw a guy off the 91 the other day who was holding a sign that said, "Why lie? I need a drink." and the crazy thing was, a whole stream of obviously brilliant people were actually giving him money!

Do we really need what we think we need? When I take a look at my faith and what I’m supposed to be all about – am I really supposed to be needing what I think I’m needing? I often wonder if I'm more like that lady than I think I am. I hold up my "help me" sign knowing God is watching, when in reality, I wonder if He’s putting His head in His hands and thinking, "My dear, you just…don’t…get it."

Several years ago, I overheard my Pastor say that God doesn't want us comfortable. He said, if we were in a place where we were comfortable, we were probably in a place where we’ve become complacent, apathetic, stagnate and otherwise incapacitated in terms of authentic kingdom living. He said God’s plan isn’t to make us happy – His plan is to help us grow.

Shortly after hearing that, "uncomfortable" started happening in every area of my life. (Thanks a lot Pastor Cork.) At the time, it felt more like "unbearable" rather than merely uncomfortable and I can honestly say, I just plain hated it. I threw fits. I threw tantrums. I even threw a chicken (to all my PETA friends, don't worry, it was ceramic). I was angry…really, really angry. And each time I went to have a throw-down with God, those little annoying words would come back to me: God doesn't want you comfortable Kim - He wants you growing.

Flash forward six or seven years. Thankfully, I no longer throw anything (especially chickens) with the exception of an occasional dinner party here and there - and in many things, I am now ok with conforming to "uncomfortable." Most times, I don't enjoy it. Most times it's hard to do. Most times it doesn't leave me with a whole lot of warm-fuzzies. But I can say this: I am able to find comfort in being uncomfortable now. God has changed the way I look at things.

So what do we really need? If we call Jesus Savior and King, then reality is, we don't need much more than Him. But are we willing to live that way, really authentically live that way? And if we can't or aren't willing to do that, what kind of faith do we really have? I don't know about you, but it's hard to take a step back and be deliberate about not keeping up with the Jones... but it's even more difficult for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle - I just hope I'm not on that end of the equation.