Broken Beating Hearts
Tonight, I met Hagar.
She was pushing a stroller at top speed through the subway tunnel. She was haggard, dirty, poorly dressed. Her daughter was eerily silent.
“Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me out?”
Metra ticket….safe house for women leaving abusing relationships….they’re saving a bed for her but she needs to get to Kenosha….
I didn’t have my purse. She left as fast as she arrived.
I was frozen to the cement and felt a wave of emotion. I wanted the scene to be put on hold so I could sit there for a moment, process the fact that this woman was on her own, with a baby, run down, with nothing to her name.
God, do you see her? Will you encounter her, save her, restore her?
My heart is continually made heavy by the racking pain of other people’s stories. My story is hard, but it’s pretzels compared to 99% of