Daily Devotional

I had the privilege of helping lead a team of around thirty high school students this past July as we served in Baja California, Mexico. One of the most impactful parts of the trip was working with an American missionary named Dave in an area called The Canyon.

The Canyon is a large garbage dump in the center of Tijuana. Several thousand people live in the Canyon in makeshift homes cobbled together from plywood boards and sheet metal. They earn a few cents a day sifting through burning garbage for any bits of metal they can sell to the dump’s owners. For our students, visiting the Canyon was an exposure to real poverty on a level that they had never seen. Many left silent and pensive.

But the moment that most impressed me had little to do with the impoverished living conditions we saw. One of Dave’s main ministries is providing breakfast for the residents of The Canyon, so we were walking with him to the soup kitchen where we would serve that morning. As we neared it, I saw what was clearly a homeless man approaching our group from the other direction. His clothes were tattered, his bony frame tottered as he walked, and there was a vacant expression on his face. We’re used to seeing the unhoused here in the great state of California, and so my “Fresno reflexes” kicked in: Move the group to the other side of the road. Don’t make eye contact. He won’t bother us if we don’t bother him.

Suddenly, I heard a voice behind me. “Hey! Tigre!” Dave greeted the homeless man and waved him over to our group. Dave shook his hand, exchanged a few words with him in Spanish, and then walked with him over to his truck. He pulled out, of all things, a jar of peanut butter and gave it to Tigre (the man’s nickname, Spanish for “tiger”), who received it with a huge smile and continued on his way. Dave explained to our group that peanut butter was Tigre’s favorite food and another American team had left this jar for Dave to give to him.

It was a brief interaction, but I was flabbergasted. Stunned, humbled, convicted. Dave and I saw Tigre totally differently. To me, he was an annoyance, a fixture of the street scene on the same level as a trash can or a stray dog. I had lumped Tigre into the category of “homeless person” and left it at that. But for Dave, this was a real person. He has needs, wants, and desires. He has a name and a story. Dave loved Tigre, enough to know his favorite food and tell another group about it. And through his actions, Dave reminded me that Jesus loves Tigre and knows the number of hairs on his head.

Something similar happened to the prophet Jonah. Like me, he failed to love a group of people He encountered: the people of Nineveh. Jonah lumped them into a category, “foreign enemy,” and drew a conclusion, that “deserves judgment.” He was so certain in his conclusion that God’s mercy toward the repentant Ninevites incensed him. But God gently reminded Jonah that the city he wrote off as unworthy of grace was full of individuals: individuals whom God loved deeply. God told Jonah that Nineveh held 120,000 people who lived in ignorance (commentators are split on whether these are children or those lacking moral judgment). God knew them all by name: their hurts, their desires, their stories. To God, they were “lines, not dots.”

There’s a haunting song by Christian singer Brandon Heath called “Give Me Your Eyes.” While looking out over a city, while observing a bustling street, he reflects, “All those people, going somewhere / Why have I never cared?” I pass hundreds of people every day: in the slow lane on the 180, watering their lawns in the neighborhood just south of church that I drive through every day, living in a tent under the 168 overpass off of Ashlan.  Do I give any thought to them? To the fact that God loves them and they desperately need Him? When was the last time I even prayed for someone I saw in passing? There are millions of Tigres in the world, and I can’t be bothered to give them a second thought, let alone build a relationship with them like Dave did.

Do we need to learn the story of every person we meet encounter and invite them into our home? Probably not. But I think we’re too quick to put people in categories like “distracted driver, food service worker, homeless person” and forget that Jesus died for that person. So what do we do? Maybe you smile and wave at the people you drive past. Maybe you ask your cashier about their day. Maybe you keep a bag of food and hygiene supplies in your car to give to someone who might need it. Maybe you pick a house that you pass regularly and pray for the people in that house. The point is, that “all those people, going somewhere,” are precious to God. Maybe they can be a little more precious to me, too.

"English Standard Version (ESV)
The Holy Bible, English Standard Version. ESV® Text Edition: 2016. Copyright © 2001 by Crossway Bibles, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers."