“Listen to my cry, for I am in desperate need…” (Psalm 142:6 NIV).

She sat on a San Francisco street corner.

Some made sweeping detours around the woman while others walked directly by, barely giving her a moment’s notice.

But me?

I stood several yards away and stared. After all, she was so unlike many of the other indigent people we encountered while visiting this coastal city some years ago.

While there were those who held cardboard proclamations like, Will work for food or Charity for a song or A coin in the can, a smile from this man, this particular person held no sign. Unlike the others, she didn’t sit on flattened, discarded boxes or a spread out tattered quilt, nor did she make eye contact.

Rather, this desperate woman held out open, outstretched hands, her arms hidden within the confines of a soiled sort of sackcloth, her eyes clenched tight, face uplifted, and…

She pleaded.

But her pleas weren’t particularly aimed at those who passed. Instead, they seemingly reached beyond, her urgent cries from an earnest heart. But to whom?

To God?

My family finally arrived at her street corner, and we waited to cross. And as we lingered, though only for a moment, I heard the Lord speak to my heart.

This. Hers are the cries I hear and answer.

What? But the light turned, and we walked on. The woman’s pleading echoed as we reached the other side. Before entering our hotel, however, the hustle and bustle of the city swallowed her cries, much like a solo cup floating on water slowly fills, then sinks, disappearing altogether.

Still, her memory lingered.

Home, I thought of her again as I peered out at our pond, watching as small ripples danced on water, the result of summer winds through our valley. Where is she now? I wondered. Is she sitting on her street corner, continuing to cry out?

Her ripple–that which was impactful despite this brief encounter–touched me, and I asked God why?

For what purpose did You allow this, Lord? What am I to learn from her?

Then God in His kindness spoke to my heart.

Remember when you, in your desperate place, cried out to Me with clenched fists, holding tightly to your dream. You prayed, ‘Gimme, gimme, God’ prayers–asking for that which your heart most desired. And what did you most desire?

I knew, so I answered, “I remember. I was desperate for a child.“

That’s right. Your heart longed to be a mom. And during that barren season, did you sometimes try to bargain with Me–offering an ‘If this… then that’ sort of scenario?

“Yes,” I replied, and right then, the other impoverished people flashed across my mind–their bargains, ploys, tactics. “Kinda like them, huh, God?”

Yes. But what about the woman on the street corner?

Once more, I saw her. Heard her. Felt her desperation. “She brought nothing. Offered nothing. Had nothing. She simply cried out for help.”

There was a pause, as the Lord allowed this truth to settle. Finally, Over time, what did you learn?

Once more, I knew. “I learned to let go. To open my hands with the dream held out–to hold it up to You, trusting You for the outcome. And I also learned to let go of bargaining–to instead cry out for Your help, no matter what that looked like, no matter how it came.”

I sensed God’s smile. Like that desperate San Francisco woman.

“Yes, like her.”

It was then I opened my Bible to a favorite verse, one that, on this day, held fresh meaning.

“Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart” (Psalm 37:4).

And I prayed, “Thank You for answering my prayer. Even though Your plan was different than what I once wanted, it was and is so much more beautiful than I could ever have imagined.”

Again, the woman’s face flashed.

“Lord, I know each of these people is precious to You–created in Your image. Be with each one and meet their needs, I pray. And please be with this desperate woman, one whose name I don’t know, someone I’ll never see again, at least not this side of heaven. Thank You for the lesson learned from her pleading, and bless her, I pray. Help me help others with the truths she’s taught me.”

And may it be so.

To ponder:

• What desire are you holding on to, your dream held behind clenched fists?
• Are you bargaining with God, offering an “If this… then that” scenario?
• Are you ready to let go and trust God for the outcome?

Remember–Cry out to Him in your desperation, and I promise–He will answer!

Kind Father, please help us hold out to You all our dreams and desires. You listen to the cries of the desperate, promising to deliver us. Help us trust You with the outcome, no matter what it is or how and when it comes. Amen.

“Call to Me, and I will answer you…” (Jeremiah 33:3).