October 30, 20f5 “You girls, listen now, if I have one piece of advice for you-listen to me now-don’t talk to the guys around hei all of them; they’ll take your virginity and get you into drugs. You’ve gotta be smart.” She took a puff of the filt wrinkly fingers and then waved warningly. “You're not in a good area. I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But the no one should ever see. I’ve lived here all my life; I know. ’Lindsay and I stood, somewhat taken a back, nodd bject of before she steadily on her taped-together plastic walker. “Now you have a good day ladies,” she called as she crossed th longside the curb. Central Park was, in my heart at least, a battle and a frustration. Here, the people didn’t look desperate for th missing teeth and reek of smoke and scream with worn-out voices from one sidewalk to another. Instead, coupl other as they enjoyed the Russian man’s accordion music and the mild October weather. Men in suits am couples pushing strollers hurried past, and joggers with earbuds in ran by. These people didn’t seem to ne content and comfortable; they had enough in life. sat on a bench right outside of the park. I knew that down the row of benches, separated by trees, oth( praying for an opportunity to talk to someone—half-dreading, half-hoping. I tensed as a man, probably in his ea
-earbuds in, finger flicking across the screen of his phone.“People will take their prayed and thought and before I had worked up the courage to say anything, the
earbuds out,” I remember man was on his way again.
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We find it easier to approach people who we consider to be beneath us. What are my motives? Am I doing this because Jim and Aaron are watching, lost saved? In what ways would I actually serve the LORD if I didn’t have to? In each moment, am I serving myself or am I obeying the LORD?
because
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