I previously announced the newest blogger in my family,  Ryan, my nephew. A twenty-something, he has been blogging about his experience in the Jesuit Volunteer Corps, working in a resource center for homeless men and helping them navigate the court system in Oakland, CA. He lives on a very small stipend, in a house with other volunteers. He writes about his clients, what they experience, and how he’s a stranger in the foreign land of homelessness. This, from a college graduate of a major university, who lived in a comfortable suburb of Denver with his parents after finishing school.

What I admire about Ryan’s writing is that he brings me closer to the human experience–the parts that we know deep down in our gut but which we divert our attention from in our daily lives. Who among us has not felt the uncomfortable feeling of isolation? Or on the other side, of wanting to detach from those in society who were reminders of "but for the grace of God, go I?" Ryan’s posts also help me remember that I  have so much, both materially and in terms of support and relationships, and that I often fail to appreciate or put into context the abundance that I’m blessed with. 

A colleague recently blogged about her experience with a close friend who had fallen on tough times. She talked about receiving desperate phone calls from motels and good intentions turning into visits to the ER with high blood alcohol levels and not knowing how to help.

Are they so different from us, the fringes of society who show us what mental illness and alcohol abuse look like? It’s good to get a glimpse of the foreign land, to teach us compassion, to connect us to human souls who have lost their way but who have the map inside of them, to practice gratitude.

There, but for the grace of God, go I.