Camels and Rich Men

I’m not sure what my deal is, but as soon as I posted my blog on Monday about not blogging, that is all I’ve thought about and wanted to do. Okay, not really, but it’s taken up a significant portion of my thoughts. So, here I am. But this is one of those “deep thoughts” blogs that won’t really have a conclusion because I’m not that spiritually mature yet. Although the truth is, I probably won’t ever be where I’d like to be, but really are any of us until we meet Jesus face to face? I hope not anyway.

On Monday, I arrived back at the apartment after Ryan and my’s (mine’s?) failed attempt to get a marriage license. (The printer was broken, in case you don’t follow me in Instagram.) And a lady was taking the cutest little doggie to the grass to do his business. So I stopped for a second and coo’ed over the puppy and dreamed about having one. And she told me that he had been rescued by a trucker friend of hers who had found him in a dumpster. The puppy was a pure-bred something or other, but he was blind, so she suspected that the breeder just threw him away because he couldn’t sell him. And we both lamented over how anyone could do that to a sweet dog and she made the comment that humans are so much crueler than animals.

And I walked up the stairs into my apartment hoping that I could find a puppy someone had thrown away because there was no way I could turn it away and so I’d HAVE to keep it.

So yesterday, I was on twitter and saw this post from Hollywood Housewife.

And I’ll be damned if my toes didn’t start feeling a little sore from being stepped on.

Last week, Ryan and I were going to pre-marital counseling and we don’t have time to sit down for dinner, so I picked us up Panera on my way home. I was sitting at the red light, waiting to turn left and I saw a homeless guy sitting on the sidewalk. I looked at him for a minute and I think he saw me staring, but I turned away before we made any substantial eye contact. And my radio was turned up pretty loud, but I could hear him yelling over it. I couldn’t make out what he was saying and I didn’t want to look back at him because I was scared he was yelling at me. I don’t know what he was yelling or even if he was yelling at me, but why didn’t I roll down my window and hand him my salad?

I go to church every Sunday and every night I pray to Jesus that I would love him more and love like he did, yet I turn and look the other way when I pass a homeless man. I cry over puppies in dumpsters but not over real, soul-filled humans that are thrown away by society. I often dream about having a basement in my house with a bedroom and picking up homeless men off the street so they can have a bed to sleep in so that my babies can see what love looks like, but would I ever have the guts to actually do it? I know that I would be met with resistance at every turn, but so was Paul.

Jesus said that it was easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to get into Heaven and I’m starting to believe him. Y’all, I am RICH. I have a roof over my head, a relatively new car, I’ve never been unable to afford a meal. The 1st century Christians had way less than I did, but they never sat down to a meal without a guest. They adopted babies and took care of the sick. Sure, I sponsor a child through Compassion, but I never even miss that money. Ever. I have never gotten to the end of the month and thought, dang, I wish I had that $37 back.

I dream of a nice house in a cool area of town with pretty furniture. Stylish new clothes from Kate Spade and Tory Burch. Fun shoes to match every outfit and awesome parties and dinners out with all my friends. But I also dream of loving abundantly and giving sacrificially and sharing Jesus constantly.

I guess the question is, which one do I want more?

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One Comment on “Camels and Rich Men”

  1. Erika B. says:

    Yikes. So much truth here. I hate to think about this stuff…THANKS A LOT, SLOAN. But seriously. It’s good stuff.


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