On the way to my office, new signage was put up in front of a building along a busy stretch of road. The building had been vacant for some time—long enough that I had forgotten what was once there.

The drive to the office moves at a predictable pace: a collection of strangers cocooned in their vehicles, robotically driving. Little is left to the imagination when little changes.

As such, the new sign in red block lettering advertising an all-you-can-eat restaurant followed by “COMING SOON!!!!!!” caught my attention.

My first thought was to count the exclamation marks: six.

My second thought was to wonder how much food places like that must waste daily. Upon passing the sign, my thoughts went elsewhere. As brief as the thoughts came is as brief as they remained.

But the following morning’s drive to work brought an entirely different experience.

I anticipated seeing the sign and already knew what it said. I found it almost humourous that I recounted the exclamation marks just to be sure I was correct the day before. Still six.

My smile faded when my eyes followed to the end of the large sign. Something that was not there before. Rather, some things and someone.

A grocery shopping cart had been rolled upon the grass, the front casters scarcely removed from the busy street. Under the cart was a Sunbonnet Sue patterned quilt. Inside the cart was an assortment of stuffed bags. A run-over orange cone partially wrapped with duct tape was on the grass within arm’s reach of the cart. But closer than the cart to the cone was a figure of a person fully wrapped in a blanket, lying still upon the grass.

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I could not tell anything about the person: gender, sex, age, complexion, size… not one thing — only the shape of a life. 

My imagination took over. My thoughts stayed with the figure for most of the morning while I sat comfortably in my chair at work. The image of the individual experiencing homelessness rattled me. Of course, I have seen similar sites many times before, but this was something new — someone new in this location.

It seemed to be a cruel joke to have an all-you-can-eat sign in the backdrop of the displaced figure.

I wrestled with my presumptions, fears, and ignorance. The juxtaposition between what I envisioned versus the reality of the individual’s story may be spot-on or worlds apart. I did not know and would soon realize that I would never know.

On my way home, I looked for the figure.

The only thing that remained in the space was the COMING SOON!!!!!! sign.

No cart. No quilt. No bags. No life.

I am not sure what I was expecting, but the sudden warmth of tears on my cheeks was not it. The sensation was strange and something I could not describe. In the view of the barren grass, my mind kept filling the void with the possible identity of the figure that had been wrapped in the blanket.

It could have been anyone. It could have been me.

I held the sign’s words at the tip of my tongue, reciting them aloud in a whisper. Eventually, I heard myself say, “This world is not my home.”

Coming soon meant something — the most emphasized portion of the sign — and now I recall why it meant something to me.

“‘Look, I am coming soon! My reward is with me, and I will give to each person according to what they have done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End,’” (Revelation 22:12-13).

The Lord does not concern Himself with descriptors as we do. He sees the ones whom He died for – the ones wrapped in the blanket, the many driving robotically to work, the discouraged overthinkers, the tired, the disheartened.

He sees you just as much as He sees me. He loves you just as much as He loves me.

The Lord is coming, my friend, just as He has promised, in His timing and by His will. May we make careful work of tending to our thoughts and others. And may we be watchful for the signs and the figures that God puts before us, sometimes just off the side of the road.

 

This column was initially published by CherryRoad Media. ©Tiffany Kaye Chartier.

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