Out Of Excuses

This morning I was in a parking lot and a young guy approached me asking for money for gas for him and his mom. I thought for a second and then told him a half-truth (i.e. a lie) that I didn't have any cash. He thanked me and went on. About five seconds later I remembered that I had a new plan for handling those types of situations (meet him at the gas station and purchase some gas for him there) but, of course, by then it was too late. I was always taught not to give anything out to people who ask for anything. They're just going to spend the money on alcohol or drugs. They might be dangerous. They're probably high right now and will pull out a knife and stab you if you make eye contact. That sort of thing. At some point I started to feel convicted, though. That I should be feeding the hungry, you know? But, I reasoned, they are probably lying about their needs, so that frees me from any obligation to help them. Jesus didn't say to feed the liars, right? But I've come to the point where I can hardly keep lying to myself anymore. I know I can buy someone what they need instead of giving money. I know I can request to meet them in a safer place to offer help. And who ever said that doing the right thing is risk-free, anyway? I've also come to realize that I could be in that person's place. I mean, I used to believe that to the extent that I'm a person and they're a person, so okay, yeah. But I really believe that now. Had I made slightly different decisions in my life, I could be asking you for some money, too. Depending on what happens tomorrow, I could be asking you for help next week. I could be asking you for gas money because I need more gas. Or I could be asking you for gas money because I need more liquor. My pride makes me not want to believe it, but pride won't save me from calamity or consequences. So how can I treat someone whose distress could be mine, someone created by God in His image, with such total disrespect and fear? I have no more excuses.