Over the weekend, I met the most beautiful woman. -She wasn’t a supermodel, or an actress, or rich at all. In fact, she was bony, skinny, homeless and unclean. Her clothes were old and ragged, and she looks like she hasn’t showered for days. But she approached us while I was on a missions trip in SF. She began to spill out her life to us, I assumed many people never stopped to listen to her. To be honest, if I was alone, I probably wouldn’t have approached her either. But her story changed my mind. She had a rough upbringing, including her father’s suicide, her mother’s verbal and possibly physical abuse, domestic violence, and she tried to kill herself many times. I bet there was more, but she eventually was kicked out of the house, and ended up on the streets. The most amazing part of her story is she told us in the end, ”We are all God’s children. And I can finally say I am blessed.” I’m rarely moved by anybody’s speaking- sure, motivation movies will maybe strike me a bit but these few words just brought tears to my eyes immediately. A woman with completely NOTHING but a bag of her limited possessions is calling herself blessed. While every single day, we complain about everything- while we haveEVERYTHING. no doubt, I do it too. Hell, I probably complain more than half of you. But because of this woman, Paige, I’ve cut down my complaining a lot in the past few days. I’ve been repeating, “I am blessed.” When I get into my car, when I pick up my gorgeous iPhone, when I lie in bed, when I eat dinner with my family, even when I’m at school- which is the first time I’ve admitted that in a place where I hate 99% of the population. She told us she was going to get back on her feet, to find a job and support herself and her son. She wasn’t going to sit around and take this, but she was going to take a stand. On top of all of this, Paige saved my life. Whether you are aware or not, I have had suicidal thoughts recently when things got really really bad, in every area of my life. I can’t even begin to explain- it wouldn’t make much sense anyway. But she reminded me of how much I have and how much I have to live for. I was almost positive when I was reminded of who loved me and when they pulled me back- but now I am a hundred percent positive I’ll never think like that again. The last thing about her I realized was her big brown eyes. Her face and hair were dirty, messed up and her skin was wrinkly, but her eyes were shining, twinkling- and they had so much life in them. Life, and hope. She was filled with hope, almost glowing! Sometimes it takes someone as alive as that to realize you’re really dying inside. Dying emotionally from the fake consumption of material in our world, in the artificialness of our conversation, daily gossip and complaints. Think about it. I love this woman. I love her for who she is, what she is making of herself, and how she still manages to hold so much hope inside of her. She is truly beautiful, because her beauty sprouts out from deep within her. I really hope this has touched your life, even the slightest bit. Because she has touched mine in the very greatest.
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This isn't a love story, but a story about love. My love for this weekend is incredible, in a very different way.
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