The rice was cooking, salad dressing had to be made, dinner needed to be served in 5 minutes so the guys could get to their meeting. The doorbell rings. Quick glance at the clock...too early for the building worker to pick up the daily trash.
"Yes?" I inquire as I open the front door. The young man shoves some candles in my face and quotes the price. My mind races, "Who let him in? We're supposed to have good security in this apartment! Now I have to deal with him!"
I notice he is nicely dressed, and is clean, and at least is trying to sell something and not just beg, but I refuse to take the candles he is trying to hand me, and barely listen to his explanation in the local language of raising money for school. His broad, hopeful smile shines as he stammers out his explanation for selling candles.
I begin to shut the door, and he increases the speed of his explanation and tries again. I ignore him, and almost have the door shut, thank goodness. He tries one last desperate time, but success! The door is shut.
The rice is rescued. Dinner proceeds at a tranquil pace. But my heart is smitten with guilt. Yet one more time, living in Central Asia, I missed my lover of my soul. Jesus came, and I shut the door in his face.
"I was hungry and you gave me me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me. Then the righteous will answer him, saying, 'Lord, when did we see you and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?' And the King will answer him, 'Truly I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me." --Jesus (Matt. 25:35-40)
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