Who Was That Girl

 

I would see her every day in front of my building, wandering looking lost – yet I was enjoying my freedom;

She looked homeless, without friends – yet I was enjoying my freedom.

Did she have family she could call on – while I was busy enjoying my freedom?

I would get home from work, exhausted from a hard day’s work and there she was looking lost and hungry – yet I was enjoying my freedom.

The night would fall and there she was looking just as distraught as she did yesterday – yet I was enjoying my freedom.

I would often mention her to my friends – as if I had come to know her, yet I never spoke a word to her; you see I was enjoying my freedom.

There were days I would see her and become so angry – but I was enjoying my freedom.

This young lady was ever growing on me, my thoughts began to get consumed by her every day as I arrived home;  who was she, what could I say to her that she would hea – I wanted her to experience my freedom.

I would see her walking, standing or just looking lost – but either I was too busy, it was too cold, it was too late in the day, it was too dark, she wasn’t ready for my conversation; I had something more important to do; I’ll check in with her the next time I see her –I was too busy enjoying my freedom.

Where had she gone, I realized she was  no longer roaming the streets where I lived – what happened to her;  was she in the hospital, was she laying in a dark place unable to call for help – I had now become Concerned

When I told this story to a few gentlemen who were selling items from their local church they strongly suggested I yield to the Spirit and talk to her because she may be getting ready to leave this world…

I was too late, I never saw her again, I searched for her day after day; week after week; I left clothes for her on the banister, I prayed for her – I was no longer too busy enjoying my freedom – yet I felt such a colossal sense of loss especially since I was perspicacious about this woman who I had never met or spoken to I had  never, could never or simply just refused to take just a few minutes of my freedom to say hello, how are you, can I help – I was like you too before I started enjoying my freedom

I never dismiss that small voice that directs to me a stranger – some folk get angry with me, some are afraid for me – some question if that is why I’m here… I just know that every time I yield I get a sweet sense that He is with me.

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