Hannah and I were sitting over coffee talking about things, when this topic came up. I had written something about how the poor and disabled lead us to the heart of God, more than any other thing, in my past experience that is. 

And granted, I live in a city where homelessness is visible on most street corners holding cardboard signs that read, “Pennies help!” and “Will take verbal abuse for change” - which honestly, breaks my heart. I know this man is hoping his humor will win him a few bucks every now and then. 
I feel this way I often speak on the poor is hurting what we truly need out of our relationships with one another. I know that Jesus fed the multitudes, but they were hungry again the next day - the crippled were able to walk - the lepers were cleansed - but were they offered employment? A roof? Food? I seem to ask these questions these days in hopes that maybe they’re important. 

But as I see the beauty in our relationships with our friends who are poor, I have this nagging suspicion that I’m missing something deeper - the urge to bring them out of poverty.

So I ask the question to myself, “Am I romanticizing poverty?” 
Isn’t my goal to alleviate their suffering? Or when the Bible says that the poor will always be among us, is that a statement to encourage others to bring change or to simply moderate its existence? 

My conclusion seems to come to…well yes, of course. They obviously deserve a more comfortable life…with a roof over their heads, food in their bellies and a job that provides dignity. Our jobs are to alleviate poverty and to give others a better life, not just learn from them and benefit from their poverty. 

Again, these are my thoughts and I’m asking those who I’ve tagged here, for a little clarity as many of you may be further along in this journey and thought process - 
How are we to care about the poor without romanticizing their poverty to our benefit and the Broken Body of Christ -and the poor in spirit? Or is it, okay? Is their a better way to go about this conversation?

I ask in humility, because it’s not worth it for me anymore to care about our friends who are poor if I don’t do anything about what they actually need, which is love, employment, a place to live and for them to somehow be fed daily with both food and our words of encouragement and dignity. 
But, with the deep, structural and societal issues that keep our friends in poverty, are our efforts sustainable? 

I have hopes to opening this as a discussion. To learn and to act. I believe these conversations…and questions are important. As I contemplate on the heart of God, may I not forget the Beloved, that which this is all about.