Alright, so this was an amazing day! I won’t go into detail about the lessons learned this morning in worship, nor will I speak of the blessing of the fellowship that was shared with my family on this Father’s Day. Rather, I will tell you of the unspeakable joy that was granted to me in the time frame between these two great events.
It was about 2:00pm or so and I had just dropped off my car at the Kwik Kar store in Keller. I was told that it was going to be at least a half an hour or so before my car would be ready. I got a little stir crazy in the shop that I was sitting in, so I decided to leave and go for a walk. About a quarter mile away was a shopping center. I began to walk in that general direction.
The heat was intense, and before long I was drenched in sweat. After walking through a clothing store, I stopped at a nearby gas station and bought a Mountain Dew. I was exhausted from the morning’s responsibilities and I needed a pick-me-up to carry me at least as far as the short drive home where I would nap until 6pm or so. I started walking back and it just got hotter and hotter outside! I stopped and rested under a shade tree that was on my way back.
As I rested, I began to think of the homeless community that lived under the bridge on Commerce Street in Dallas. I thought about the heat that was greatly multiplied by the paved ground that was on all sides of this community. And then I felt like God was calling me to go and bring relief to these people – temporary as it might be. I finished the walk back to the carwash store, jumped in my car, and began driving on the road that would lead me either home or to the homeless community. I chose to pass my house and head to Dallas.
I arrived in Dallas around 3:00pm, purchased twenty ice-cold bottled waters and drove everywhere searching for this community, after handing one bottle to a man on the way out of the gas station. After driving up and down Commerce Street, I simply couldn’t find this group of people anywhere! I later discovered that a highway project had displaced all of these folks, and that the community God had put on my heart was simply no longer in the same location. I began to doubt momentarily, but then my convictions were confirmed as I passed a middle-aged couple on the side of the road. The man was vomiting, and the woman was caressing his back as if to sooth his pain. I pulled a U-turn and parked illegally to give both of them two bottles of water. They were both grateful, and then the woman asked if I could give her money for food. I smelled alcohol on her breath and was convinced that my money would not reach its well-intended purpose. As I left, the lady called out to me, “Don’t forget to pray for the kids in India!”
I wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but I was comforted by that fact that I had been some small blessing to these two individuals. I drove back down Commerce and couldn’t find anyone that God was strongly leading me to. As I approached Highway 35, and with somewhat of a resolution to take the remaining water and place it in my own refrigerator, I noticed a large group of people in a shaded area that looked kind of like a bus stop. I think it was an abandoned bus stop or something, but it looked like the perfect opportunity to give out the rest of these waters and head back home for my nap.
I pulled into the parking lot and began unloading the bottles of water. A drunken man mocked me, and another drunken man wanted me to interpret some kind of apocalyptic dream for him. I wasn’t crazy about either gesture, and was more convinced that it was about that time to head back to Southlake. The man who had mocked me asked me if I had any clothes for him. The others quickly silenced him, but I honored this man’s request. I gave him my undershirt. He continued to make jokes and called me “Hercules” in spite as I removed both of my shirts. He offered me a beer, but again, it seemed like it was in spite and not in true hospitable form. I put my dress shirt back on, but as I was getting back into my car, another man stopped me and asked me if I would buy him some food. He offered to meet me farther out in the parking lot so that I wouldn’t feel obligated to get food for the rest of the people.
I quickly poked my head back into the shaded area and asked how many of them wanted hamburgers. They all raised their hands excitedly, and I honored their requests. I drove to Wendy’s and bought ten burgers and ten small fries. As I came back to this community, I placed a burger and box of fries in each person’s hands and prayed for them individually. Some wept as I prayed, others seemed emotionally unaffected, but all showed appreciation and respect for what I offered. I still remember all of their names. The first guy I met was rolling a joint when I had first walked in and he took off his hat to pray with me. His name was Ernesto. The next man’s name was Tony. I sensed that he knew God, and reflected this in my prayer for him. He acknowledged his great love for God after our prayer and was very grateful for the meal. The next man I prayed with was Jose. He had a cowboy hat on and removed it to pray with me. Little did they know that I had no concern for their hats, their beers, their joints, or any other things that would merit some false judgment about their character. I skipped the next man, and went to pray for the man who had previously mocked me. His name is Manuel. He was in tears the very second I began to speak. Tears poured from his big brown eyes, eyes that had seen terrible things no doubt, as I prayed for him. To his left, and to my right, was a lady named Eva - the only Caucasian person of the group. She was appreciative as well, and I kept moving down the line. I then met and prayed with two men named Robert and Jason. The last guy was Adan. He had tattoos on every visible part of his body. He received my meal and my prayers, and removed his hat as well.
I then returned to Joe, or Pepe, as his friends called him. He was the one who had told me about his dream before. We prayed together for his surgery that is supposed to take place tomorrow morning. As I got back in my car, Manuel and Adan met me at my car. Manuel, still clearly inebriated yet equally as genuine, met me with a closing word of thankfulness. He told me that he thanked me from the center of his heart, and I told him that it was my pleasure to meet him. Adan then asked me if there was any way that I could help him get into rehab. I told him that I would consider what I could do to help. I then gave him my dress shirt, as it seemed that it would fit, and started my car. As I began to back out, Pepe met me with a big smile. He took off his oily shirt and gave it to me. He said, “Here, my friend. This is for you.” I told him that I had plenty of shirts and that he might need it more than me. He was not happy with this and insisted that I take his shirt. I reluctantly took it as well as his request for a ride home. I stopped for him to go into the gas station and buy some “food.” He came out with a couple of beers, and I told him that I was hurt by his dishonesty. He looked very disappointed in himself and apologized. I told him that I forgave him, but that I would appreciate honesty in the future. He agreed and we headed for his motel. I asked him one more time on the way out if he wanted to keep his shirt and he told me firmly that it was my shirt, and that if I wanted him to give him another shirt that I was welcome to do that – but this shirt was a gift to me! I left feeling like an idiot for even bringing it up again. Oh, and in my defense, he did say that this was the only shirt that he had in his possession (save the wife beater undershirt that he was also wearing). What a day! It was a long story, so I thought I would have my friends read before discussing it, so that we could spend more time unpacking the implications of this great divine appointment! Thanks for celebrating this awesome day with me! (Sorry for the terrible grammar and spelling. I’m sure it’s a wreck, but hopefully you’ll all get the jist.)
-MB
1 year ago
