I
sat with two friends,
in
the picture window of a quaint restaurant
just
off the corner of the town square.
The
food and the company
were
both especially good that day.
As
we talked,
my
attention
was
drawn outside across the street.
There,
walking into town ,
was
a man who appeared to be
carrying
all of his worldly goods on his back.
He
was carrying a well-worn sign that read :
I
will work for food. My Heart Sank.
I
brought him to the attention of my friends
and
noticed that others around us
had
stopped eating to focus on him.
Heads
moved in a mixture of sadness and disbelief.
We
continued with our meal,
but
his image lingered in my mind.
We
finished our meal and went our separate ways.
I
had errands to do and quickly set out to accomplish them.
I
glanced toward the town square,
looking
somewhat half-heartedly for the strange visitor.
I
was fearful,
knowing
that seeing him again
would
call some response.
I
drove through town and saw nothing of him.
I
made some purchases at a store
and
got back in my car.
Deep
within me,
the
Spirit of God kept speaking to me:
"Don't go
back to the office
until
you've at least driven once more
around
the square."
Then
with some hesitancy,
I
headed back into town.
As
I turned the square's third corner,
I
saw him.
He
was standing on the steps
of
the store front church,
going
through his sack.
I
stopped and looked;
feeling
both compelled to speak to him,
yet
wanting to drive on.
The
empty parking space on the corner
seemed
to be a sign from God:
an
invitation to park.
I
pulled in,
got
out
and
approached
the
town's newest visitor.
"Looking
for the pastor?" I asked.
"Not
really," he replied, "just resting."
"Have
you eaten today?"
"Oh,
I ate something early this morning."
"Would
you like to have lunch with me?"
"Do
you have some work I could do for you?"
"No
work," I replied
"I
commute here to work from the city,
but I
would like to take you to lunch."
"Sure,"
he replied with a smile.
As
he began to gather his things,
I
asked some surface questions.
Where
you headed?"
"
St. Louis "
"Where
you from?"
"Oh,
all over; mostly Florida ."
"How
long you been walking?"
"Fourteen
years," came the reply.
I
knew I had met someone unusual.
We
sat across from each other
in
the same restaurant I had left earlier.
His
face was weathered slightly beyond his 38 years.
His
eyes were dark yet clear,
and
he spoke with an eloquence
and
articulation that was startling.
He
removed his jacket
to reveal
a bright red T-shirt that said,
"Jesus
is The Never Ending Story."
Then
Daniel's story began to unfold.
He
had seen rough times early in life.
He'd
made some wrong choices
and
reaped the consequences.
Fourteen
years earlier,
while
backpacking across the country,
he
had stopped on the beach in Daytona.
He
tried to hire on with some men
who
were putting up a large tent
and
some equipment.
A
concert, he thought.
He
was hired,
but
the tent would not house a concert
but revival
services,
and
in those services
he
saw life more clearly.
He
gave his life over to God.
"Nothing's
been the same since," he said,
"I
felt the Lord telling me to keep walking,
and
so I did,
some
14 years now."
"Ever
think of stopping?" I asked.
"Oh,
once in a while,
when
it seems to get the best of me.
But God
has given me this calling.
I
give out Bibles .
That's
what's in my sack.
I
work to buy food and Bibles,
and
I give them out when His Spirit leads."
I
sat amazed.
My
homeless friend was not homeless.
He
was on a mission and lived this way by choice.
The
question burned inside for a moment
and
then I asked:
"What's it like?"
"What?"
"To
walk into a town
carrying
all your things on your back
and to
show your sign?"
"Oh,
it was humiliating at first.
People
would stare and make comments.
Once
someone
tossed
a piece of half-eaten bread
and
made a gesture
that
certainly didn't make me feel welcome.
But
then it became humbling
to realize
that God was using me
to
touch lives and change people's concepts
of other
folks like me."
My
concept was changing, too.
We
finished our dessert and gathered his things.
Just
outside the door, he paused.
He
turned to me and said,
"Come
Ye
blessed
of my Father
and
inherit the kingdom
I've
prepared for you.
For
when I was hungry
you
gave me food,
when
I was thirsty
you
gave me drink,
a
stranger and you took me in."
I
felt as if we were on holy ground.
"Could
you use another Bible?"
I
asked.
He
said he preferred a certain translation.
It
traveled well and was not too heavy.
It
was also his personal favorite.
"I've
read through it 14 times," he said.
"I'm
not sure we've got one of those,
but
let's stop by our church and see"
I
was able to find my new friend
a
Bible that would do well,
and
he seemed very grateful.
"Where
are you headed from here?" I asked.
"Well,
I
found this little map
on
the back
of
this amusement park coupon."
"Are
you hoping to hire on there for awhile?"
"No,
I just figure I should go there.
I
figure someone
under that
star right there
needs
a Bible,
so
that's where I'm going next."
He
smiled,
and
the warmth of his spirit
radiated
the sincerity of his mission.
I
drove him back to the town-square
where
we'd met two hours earlier,
and
as we drove,
it
started raining.
We
parked and unloaded his things.
"Would
you sign my autograph book?" he asked.
"I
like to keep messages from folks I meet."
I
wrote in his little book
that
his commitment to his calling had touched my life.
I
encouraged him to stay strong.
And
I left him with a verse of scripture from Jeremiah,
"I
know the plans I have for you,
declared the
Lord,
"plans
to prosper you and not to harm you;
Plans
to give you a future and a hope."
"Thanks,
man," he said.
"I
know we just met and we're really just strangers,
but
I love you."
"I
know," I said, "I love you, too."
"The
Lord is good!"
"Yes,
He is.
How
long has it been
since
someone hugged you?" I asked.
A
long time," he replied
And
so
on
the busy street corner
in
the drizzling rain,
my
new friend and I embraced,
and
I felt deep inside
that
I had been changed.
He
put his things on his back,
smiled
his winning smile and said,
"See
you in the New Jerusalem."
"I'll
be there!" was my reply.
He
began his journey again.
He
headed away
with
his sign dangling from his bedroll
and
pack of Bibles.
He
stopped, turned and said,
"When
you see something
that
makes you think of me,
will
you pray for me?"
"You
bet,"
I
shouted back,
"God
bless."
"God
bless."
And
that was the last I saw of him.
Late
that evening
as
I left my office,
the
wind blew strong.
The
cold front had settled hard upon the town.
I
bundled up and hurried to my car.
As
I sat back and reached for the emergency brake,
I
saw them...
a pair
of well-worn brown work gloves
neatly
laid over the length of the handle.
I
picked them up
and
thought of my friend
and
wondered
if
his hands would stay warm that night
without
them.
Then
I remembered his words:
"If
you see something
that
makes you think of me,
will
you pray for me?"
Today
his
gloves lie on my desk in my office.
They
help me to see the world
and
its people in a new way,
and
they
help me remember those two hours
with
my unique friend and to pray for his ministry.
"See
you in the New Jerusalem," he said.
Yes,
Daniel, I know I will...
"I
shall pass this way but once.
Therefore,
any
good that I can
do
or any kindness that I can show,
let
me do it now,
for
I shall not pass this way again."
Author
Unknown
Contributed By : Darlene McMahan
Page Created : Pam Gallo
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His Will Was Done
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