"So, what would you do if someone asked you for money for food?," my mom asked me four weeks ago as we sat under a thatched-roofed veranda at the beach in Ghana. We were talking about the role the church and followers of Christ should play in dealing with hunger and poverty in that West African country.
"Well, I hope, I would give them food if I had any. And if I didn't, I'd take them out to get some, and sit and talk with them," I responded.
My mom rolled her eyes at me knowingly, as if somehow she knew that two and a half weeks later I would walk past a homeless man at a Metro station in D.C. and do nothing more than shake my head no.