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I am sitting here watching a homeless man plan a shoplifting 'activity'. He is riding around in one of those motorized carts that non-handicap men/women ride in because they are too damn fat to walk...waiting on the ideal opportunity to steal some food. Ironically, what he is attempting to steal is in a grocery basket that's destined for the food dumpster/compactor. Consequently, if he gets caught placing the day old fried chicken in his coat he will be arrested for shoplifting...a criminal charge that carries anywhere from 6 months to a 1 year in Dekalb County lock-up.

As I entered the store today to begin my day with a cup of iced-coffee, I walked up on a homeless man. He was soak and wet. Guess praying for the elimination of all this damn pollen worked for you Praying People. It rained! He has an open and bleeding wound and in the top of his head. And, he appears to be mentally ill. I initially walked past him thinking it has to be cold in those that sweatshirt and jeans! Then I returned remembering that I have a 2001 velour sweatsuit in the trunk of the vehicle that I am driving. I told him that I was going to give him some dry clothes. I returned and gave the warm Adidas sweatsuit to him which was purchased for me...gotta love those former girlfriends with money who are willing to spend 200 bucks on a damn sweatsuit for their man! He was appreciative. Then I decided to escort him in the store because if he was seen by the Store Management Team he would have gotten kicked out. My escort was to the restroom so that he can change into the dry clothing without incident.

Yesterday I asked a security guard why was there a need for her to rudely demand a homeless man to remove himself from a bench that's located in the front of a building. She responded with a non-caring demeanor. I could not understand why she could care less about a homeless man sitting on a bench...who was not panhandling. He just wanted to sit down for a moment.

All three episodes in my 'privileged life' has left me with a deep-seated nagging emotion that I cannot shake this morning. I am literally walking around on the verge of exploding with tears. You know one of those moments that if someone says the wrong thing you will cry uncontrollably.

All this 'credit' church folk give God for this and that...for providing for them...for helping them acquire the most meaningless shit - and three homeless men are candidates for ANOTHER Life altering Event.

All that for this question:

Who the Hell is God helping and WHY?

The Black Rebel

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