"She's in the second row."
"Great, I'll go sit next to her."
I scooted into the chair on her right and she looked at me, threw her arms around me and held on tight.
We chatted for a few moments and as the worship band began, we patted each other on the arms, a promise to carry on the conversation after church.
Throughout the sermon, she amen-ed, nodded in agreement, choked back tears.
I did too, as I considered her situation and the fact that she was even in church. She was self conscious about her clothing. She was wearing blue jeans. Thankfully, on this particular Sunday, so was I (I had intended to wear a skirt and blouse until the last minute, the slipped on a pair of jeans instead-thank you GOD!).
You see, she is homeless. Not homeless, homeless as in living under a bridge, drinking out of a brown paper bag, pushing a shopping cart.
She has a roof over her head. An ancient, dilapidated camper that she shares with two large dogs.
It will not do for our Wisconsin winters.
Some of us has a meeting after church yesterday to discuss Christmas services. There were sandwiches. And after the meeting several were left over.
I found out where she lived and took them to her. She gave me a tour of where she worked (her camper is parked behind her work) and thanked me profusely for the sandwiches.
But the sandwiches will run out. She will use up the gas card our church gave her. The temperatures will get colder.
Yet, I see a lot of hope for this gal. She is a hard worker. She has set goals. She wants to stay connected with us and we with her.
She loves Jesus.
Life and circumstances have hit her hard.
But there is a Savior.
He has put her in a loving community and as we work together we can serve one another, bear one another's burdens, care for one another.
I'm excited to watch what HE does and to be a part of it.