by Katherine Loucks

“I don’t want you to pray for me, and I don’t want to hear about God loving me”.  Those were the first words out of Kathryn’s mouth when I sat down to talk to her on the sidewalk.  I had stopped and spoken with her before, but today something in me really wanted to hold a good conversation with her.  I was caught off guard by her statement though, since I hadn’t said anything about being involved with YWAM or the salvation army or anything.  I told her I wasn’t going to make her pray or anything.  “I’m so angry at God right now”, she said.  She went off on a rant about how hard life was.  Kathryn’s been on the drive for 4 years now, she’s originally from Toronto.  She’s been in and out of shelters. She’s been married, but now is divorced, and hiding from her ex-husband.  She blames God for most everything.

I asked her if she wanted to go grab some coffee, so she gathered up her belongings (which all fit into a backpack), and we headed down to J.J. Bean.  She got earl gray tea, I had coffee.  We sat down.  “I’m just so angry at God”, she repeated.  I asked her why.   “I’m just so tired of trying to get ahead, and people telling me God loves me and wants the best for me.  I still spend every night on the streets.  I still don’t have a house.  Loving God hasn’t gotten me anywhere.  I’m still hungry, cold, and alone”.  I struggled for words.  I felt at that moment almost guilty for having the life I am blessed with.  I felt so shallow saying, “well, God does love you, and He does want what’s best for you”.  I asked her why she refused help?  “I don’t want people to think I’m weak”.

“I don’t think you’re weak.  I think stepping forward and admitting you’ve screwed up and need help to get out of a situation is one of the most courageous things a person can do.”

Her eyes started to fill up with tears.  She swears and wipes them away impatiently, as though she’s annoyed with herself for being vulnerable.  Her hand shakes…from lack of cigarettes, drugs, I don’t know.  She obviously has addictions.

“I know you don’t want me to pray for you here, but I have to tell you, I’m going to be praying for you later on.  Is that ok?”

She hesitates…”As long as everything is just between you and God.”

I assure her it will be.  She heads off to buy cigarettes, and I walk out into the sunshine with a burdened heart for Kathryn.  I will pray for her, every day.  And it’s my hope and prayer that when I return to Vancouver, she won’t be sitting in the same spot I see her in every morning.  That I’ll maybe run into her working, or shopping for groceries, or heading home to her very own home.  God really does want what’s best for her, and He does love her.  Of that I am convinced.