SHACKLES AND CHAINS

By Anita Mondragon
So many times we pass homeless folks in the street, and never dwell on the things they endure every day…every night.  In fact, we don’t give it a thought!

I know…some of them want to be there…on the street; but what about the others?  What about the one’s that fell on hard times and just ended up there?  My heart goes out to all of them!  Yes!  Even those who seemingly want to stay where they are…especially them!

If the devil has blinded you so much that you believe you are in a ‘good’ place while sleeping in doorways, wearing tattered clothes, hungry and in need of a shower…if you think you’ve found happiness in a bottle, a syringe, a pill, or the like…you are bound! Not with chains…but fetter chains.  You are shackled – bound by the legs, and you can’t get free!  Only Jesus can do that for you!

The following is something that I wrote a long time ago.  I was waiting in the car one winter morning while my husband ran into 7-11.  This particular woman came into view, and I’m sure because of what I witnessed, she was one of those who had fallen on hard times…but was trying to get out of her present situation. Take a look…

Emerging  from a doorway, she stands.  Her cart filled with treasures she’d rescued from the trash the night before.  

As the sun peeks over the horizon, it reveals the turmoil in her mind.  It’s visible on her face, as one emotion after another crosses her mind and contorts her features.

“Relief” goes first.  Relief…she has survived the long, cold night.  Relief…she’s alive!  No one has killed her…no one has dumped her body in a near-by alley.  Relief!  Her eyes light up, and the trace of a smile crosses her face.

“Hopelessness” rushes in next.  He molds her features, as he squeezes the light from her eyes reminding her that she must face another night in a few hours; taunting her with the thought of, “What if I never see tomorrow?”.

Then the twins, called “Failure” and “Desperation” flood her soul and cause her face to become hard…like stone.

I sit in my warm car, parked on the street and witness these things.

It is bitter cold.  

Clad in a thin coat, she ties a dirty, knitted scarf around her neck.  Then in total defiance, throws it over her shoulder as if it were a fancy feather boa.  She walks off down the sidewalk, head held high!

That’s when I realized…she won’t be in this place for long. 

 “Dignity” had just showed up!

-anita 2010


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