At the Intersection of 87th & Pulaski

At the intersection of 87th and Pulaski in Chicago stands a lady. She stands there every day with a sign: “Anything helps. God bless you.”

Few people stop. It would be a shame to support this kind of living. Even fewer people know her name. After all, she’s just a beggar at an intersection, an inconvenience to their busy lives. They avoid eye contact. It’s pointless to put a name with the homeless lady asking for a handout. 

It’s pointless unless you’re looking for ways to adore Jesus.

The “anything helps” might just be a protein bar offered through a car window and a quick question before the light changes, “What’s your name?” and five simple words offered in farewell, “We’ll be praying for you.”

And three-year-old Julia in the backseat is struck by the lady with no home. The lady standing in the rain asking for money. The lady whose name is Susan. 

And every day Julia prays for the lady at the intersection. Weeks pass, and Julia’s daddy sees Susan and tells her that his little three-year-old at home prays for her every day. 

Beyond someone offering a protein bar before the light turns green. Beyond someone remembering her name is Susan. There’s that little three-year-old somewhere praying for her. Susan. Her. The homeless lady who stands at the intersection of 87th and Pulaski with a sign that says, “Anything helps.”

Susan is touched. She adds another request, “Tell her, tell her to pray for my husband. He was hit by a car.”

The light changes, and Susan has to walk back to the curb, back to her post to eek out enough money for her husband and kids. Julia’s daddy parks the car and comes back to Susan. 

Amid the traffic and changing lights and people with busy lives, Julia’s daddy asks the lady with the sign, the lady whose name is Susan, “What’s your husband’s name?” and “Which hospital is he at?” and “Would it be all right if I go visit him?”

And Julia’s daddy sits by Jeff’s bedside and reads the timeless words, “Some wandered in desert wastes, finding no way to a city to dwell in; hungry and thirsty, their soul fainted within them. Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble, and He delivered them from their distress. He led them by a straight way till they reached a city to dwell in. Let them thank the Lord for His steadfast love, for His wondrous works to the children of man! For He satisfies the longing soul, and the hungry soul He fills with good things. He sent His word and healed them.” (Psalm 107). 

Jeff, the man with the wife at the intersection of 87th and Pulaski, the wife that holds the sign all day, he hears the words. He hears the words because of a protein bar passed through a car window and a three-year-old praying for the lady with the sign. 

It’s easy to forget that adoring that Baby in the manger is more than imagining the simple stable He was born in and thinking that we would have done more for Him than the stingy innkeeper.

Adoring Him is about finding the un-adorable people around us and pouring our love into them, maybe in ways that inconvenience us.

And Jeff hears the words again and again as Julia’s daddy visits and revisits him.

He hears the words because when we come to adore Jesus, we come to adore the people He came for, regardless of the way they look or what they have to offer or the integrity of what they do. 

He hears the words because adoring Jesus is often inconvenient. But that inconvenience is worth it. 

**except for the names of Susan and Jeff (changed to protect privacy), every part of this story is true. Martin Barnard pastors in Chicago, Illinois. His daughter Julia prays for Susan everyday.

Image credit: timeout.com