i was driving home from work just now and as usual, there was a homeless looking man holding a sign made of cardboard and sloppy writing. i intantly noticed that this was a new man who i had not seen before, and so i read his sign. written with bad grammar, or no grammar for that matter, was the plea, "any helps, pocket change" and another small phrase asking for cents (which i cannot remember...). below these words was the phrase "thank you" written in three languages, which i thought was pretty cool.

the man's hair was medium length black and grey, and he had a full grey beard. he looked to be in his early 50's. but an old early 50's, no doubt. he was not saying anything to the cars, nor was he smiling at us, as some of the men do, but just standing there. a solitary pedestrian in a sea of cars.

then i looked around and saw another man, very similar hair color, most likely same age. "they might even have the same birthday"i thought. but there was a distinct difference. this man was driving a new bmw convertible. his hair was trimmed, he had no beard, and had on a semi-formal shirt. i saw this man look at the first and look away quickly.

their two worlds met, and it seemed to be uncomfortable to this second man. he looked away so fast, i guessed he couldn't bear the sight of his peer. he took off so fast when the light turned green that it seemed like he was escaping. escaping from his discomfort, i thought.

this reminded me of another time two world collided recently, only it was for me.

i have a friend who is an awesome woman who got married this summer. i drove about 3 hours total to go to her wedding, because i hadn't seen her in a couple years and well, she was getting married. the wedding was beautiful, and strange in some ways because she married a man from liberia, so there were two culture, not just two lives, mixing into one. there was so much joy.

between the wedding and the reception, i got a call from my mom. at first it was merely small talk, but i could sense something was odd. she told me she didn't have to tell me then, but i couldn't bear the weight of waiting. so she told me. my cousin's cousin died.

he was 19.

he was a year younger than me, and his body simply gave out. he was skim boarding all day when he passed out and his friends and paramedics could not revive him. my mom told me about the state of his parents, and i sensed that all was not well. there was so much sorrow.

the rich and the poor.
the joys and the sorrows.

they seem to come together. and, once again i am reminded that the God i serve is the God of everyone and evry situation. not just the rich. not just the poor. not just of joy. not just of sorrow.

the God of All.