TODAY I SAW THE FACE OF GOD
- Kevyn Bashore
- Jan 18, 2022
- 3 min read
Updated: 4 days ago
Current data calculates the homeless population in America to be just over 550,000 people. Here in Los Angeles where they are expanding at alarming rates, meeting at least one homeless person a day is a daily occurrence. It's easy to view this people group as a statistic. Or a nuisance. To begin avoiding them. To look at them with suspicion and disdain. Or fear.
But they are living human beings. They are sons and daughters, brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, children and grandparents. And today I was reminded of something more profound...
Because today I saw the Face of God.
As I loaded my car with bags of food, transitioning to a house-sitting gig on the other side of the city, I saw an elderly, homeless woman digging through dirty trash cans on the street. I could have ignored her. Just gone about my day. But today I took pause, because after several lean years -- I almost ended up on the street just like her.
There but for the grace of God, go I.
She was four feet tall and dressed in a dozen bulky layers of miss-matched patterns and styles, with a handkerchief tied around her head like a Russian babushka. The winter storm from last night had blown east, giving her a clear morning for working her way down my street. Her stolen grocery cart, inside, under, and tethered around the entire rim, was packed with bulging garbage bags stuffed to the gills with plastic, metal, and glass recyclables, like an over-burdened pack mule.
“Her stolen grocery cart, inside, under, and tethered around the entire rim, was packed with bulging garbage bags stuffed to the gills with plastic, metal, and glass recyclables, like an over-burdened pack mule.”
My first thought when seeing her was simply: here's another poor homeless person digging in trash cans to survive. But as I loaded my car and watched her work, meticulously piecing through the garbage to find her ephemeral treasures, my second thought was admiration and respect. I was holding two bags of groceries, purchased by meager wages earned from a slog of TV background acting gigs. Just enough food to get me through the next several days. I couldn't afford to give anything away, but I didn't care. I felt a compelled to share my food with her. So I divided my goods and approached her.
When she turned towards me, it was the first time I saw her face.
She was deeply bronzed. The skin on her arms and face was crevassed by miles of deep, leathered cracks from toiling under infinite seasons of scorching sun, dessert wind, and frozen sky. She appeared to be 150 years old. Or 1500. or 15,000. Yet there was a glint of stardust in her eyes.
She appeared to be 150 years old. Or 1500. Or 15,000.
I was compelled to linger and stare. She was beautiful. Not in a classic way. But somehow beyond time and space. Beauty in soul and spirit. I didn't want to look away. I don't know why. Was I seeing tumultuous peace? Quiet joy? Monumental gratitude? Ancient love? She smiled like the sun. Kindly accepted my offering. Whispered, "Thank you." Then turned to go. She appeared not to feel worthy to linger in my presence. I touched her shoulder. She paused. I wanted her to stay. All I could muster were the feeble words, "Bless you."
As I wondered back to the house, strangely breathless and lost in thought, I halted in the doorway, overcome by awe.
And then I wept.
I wept because I was not worthy to be in her presence.
I wept because of my pride and arrogance.
I wept because of my selfishness.
I wept because of my lack of love.
I wept because for one instance I caught a glimpse of purity.
And sacred holiness.
"When you've done it unto the least of these,
You've done it unto me."
She is one of "the least of these."
But the greatest of all.
And I am humbled.
Because today I saw the Face of God.
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NOTE: Based on a journal entry posted by Kevyn Bashore on January 10, 2017.
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