My grandfather passed away a little over a month ago. That is what led to the events of this weekend. I celebrated my 12th anniversary on Saturday, a day early. Then early in the morning SundayI left town with my parents to get the last load of furniture and other memorabilia from my grandfather's house.
The trip is just under seven hours one-way. Most people don't really understand just how huge Texas is; we were still hours away from the nearest state line. In any case, the fastest we could make the trip was two days. We arrived in the afternoon Sunday, spent four hours packing the car and trailer, then crashed. This morning we were up early and left to come home.
When we got home we were all exhausted. So was my wife. Taking care of two kids, one sick and the other screaming, can take it out of you just as much as a 2-day packing/driving extravaganza.
So, Monday night we decided to treat ourselves to a sweet treat... that means Sonic and ice cream. As we were enjoying our Limeaid (her) and Chocolate shake (me) we decided to go browse movies at Blockbuster; just to see if there might be something that piqued our interest.
As we were walking up to the door we were interrupted by a man asking for money. He asked if we could remember him on the way out, perhaps donate a dollar. We deftly made our way in, walked around the store for a bit, and exited with some other people fifteen minutes later.
Fifteen minutes. It could have ended then, except that God's Spirit seemed to be speaking to my spirit, asking me questions. "What is his story? How did he end up like that? Does he even have anyone to talk to, much less someone who will care for him?"
All of these questions kept pounding into my head. As I got back into the car I said to my wife, "Man, I feel sorry for that guy." That was when my reading from James flooded back into my mind; that passage that says it is rather useless to wish someone warm and well-fed and not to give them a coat or food.
I had done a rather good job to that point rationalizing why I could not help this guy. In general I don't support people asking for money on the highway. And, I really didn't have any cash... just a debit card.
But, I had a hard time convincing myself that I could not spare a few bucks for this guy while I sucked down a three dollar milkshake. Even worse I feared that he could very easily have turned invisible to me, as if he did not even exist. God's Spirit was screaming that this man was not invisible to Him.
So, with my wife's encouragement, I went to the nearest burger place and ordered some food. About five minutes later we were back at Blockbuster, food in hand... only to find the store front empty. It hit me just how quickly opportunities can pass us by.
I figured I should attempt to give the food to someone, so I went into the Blockbuster and asked, "Anyone want a burger?" The employees looked at me a bit askew, so I explained that I had bought it for the "guy standing outside."
"Oh, you mean barefoot guy?", one of the employees said. "Yea, I guess... is that his name? Barefoot guy?", I responded.
"No, he normally wears shoes", she said, "When I saw him tonight I said, 'James where are your shoes?'"
There it was. The man now had a name. James. This was no longer a somewhat scary guy bothering me on the way into Blockbuster. This is James, the guy who apparently lives under the bridge across the street from the Blockbuster no more than 2 miles from my house.
They pointed him out through the window. James was over trying to get a burrito. I thanked them for their help; they thanked me for thinking of James. I took him the burger. He asked God to bless me; and I did the same for him.
My heart changed. Something happened inside of me; and I believe it involves God showing me some of what He feels for James.
Service does that. When I allow my time, my money, and my effort, to be spent on others, something happens. I begin to see them a little more clearly, as God sees them. Now I pray for James; not just some impersonal prayer for "the guy at Blockbuster", but for James, the guy who lives under the bridge. Even now I find myself growing more curious about his story. How did he end up there? Could I give him someone to talk to? Could God use me to pass along a bit of His love to this son of His?
I hope so.
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