Christian Living
I forgot what warm fries taste like. They’re good!
Holly sat across from me and beside one of my friends while she ate a cheeseburger and a plate of french-fries. From time to time she would reach out to hold the hand of her lover Abraham while he wolfed down his cowboy burger. There were tears in her eyes. Mine too were a little cloudy and I could tell that my brothers were similarly affected. She had forgotten something as simple as the taste of warm food. While they ate the food we purchased for them they shared their love of Jesus and showed us the tiny bible they owned. It only held the New Testament but it was worn and obviously well used. It was handy too because while they must have hidden their other belongings, if they even had any, this book they kept with them. We keep our treasures close to us.
On this morning my brothers in Christ went out to share God’s love with strangers. Our men’s ministry is in its fledgling state having formed a few months earlier and this was our second out-reach event. A week earlier we helped the Tacoma Rescue Mission in their kitchen but this event was us going out alone. Our task was to find someone who needed a meal and provide it. Perhaps this would lead to a spiritual discussion where we could introduce God to others. But God in his humor decided that while the food they needed they already held the spiritual blessing. It was Holly and Abraham who witnessed to us.
As I sit in my comfortable home and record my thoughts I can’t help but be in awe of the power of God to take hold of any situation and make it larger. God’s expanse is often realized in the most humble of moments revealing his paradox nature. We went out to fill and become filled. We went out to bless and left transformed. This a common story when working with the Almighty.
These two beautiful children of God shared with us their love of Christ and their absolute faith that all that is taking place in their lives touches Him. In the hard times, there have been many, and in the days of plenty they give glory to God. Today they felt His blessing of food through us but I honestly know that our group of men came out richer.
Finding these two was itself an adventure. Where we chose to go is a well populated area of people who could use a free meal. But as we walked down the streets it sure felt like we were going to fail. There were no people on the streets waiting for us to offer aid. I was quietly in prayer and at the turn around point I felt a pull to turn right up an alley instead of my initial plan to turn left and cross the street. It didn’t take long before we saw them.
Three people were sitting on a rotting couch in the back portion of a loading dock. Debris was littered around them and when we approached I could see them tense up. “We are going to clean this mess up!” they told us, as if we needed some justification for why they were there. One of us opened up a dialog and soon invited them to join us up the road for some fellowship and food. I think the baby he was holding, his first born, helped make us look less threatening. “Who takes a baby out street witnessing?” I had thought earlier, but then I knew that “little man” was an asset.
Of the three we invited only two came. One was suspicious and could not trust our motives and stayed behind. But Holly and Abraham arrived and in short order we were breaking bread together. Holly regaled us with her jokes and demonstrated her British accent. She uses that sometimes to get extra portions at food kitchens. They shared their stories with us of where they came from and the struggles of life on the street. Abraham is a three year veteran of homelessness, Holly trailing behind with a year of experience. “Keep your feet healthy! If you can’t walk you can’t eat!” Holly advised us.
They call themselves hobos not homeless because a hobo lives by a code of ethics. A hobo works for their daily bread is what they say. They are both separated from their children and live each day at the mercy of God and those God sends. They are educated and former professional people. Abraham was a journeymen plumber and Holly served for some time as a family and youth counselor. They take any work that comes their way and do so with joy. Every now and then they are fortunate to take a shower at truck stops. Holly wears a ring to shun predator men, which does not work all the time, and pretends to be pregnant, which works a bit better.
The night before we met them they slept on the couch we had found them on and were so happy to have a blanket that didn’t smell of urine. Some other homeless people tried to steal that blanket from them and they had to fight for the right to sleep on the street with a single covering for their heads. It was cold last night.
Sometimes they are able to snatch the leftover and cast off food from the same area we were sitting in but not too often because they are forced out by the staff. A few months ago they found a trove of expired food that was tossed out from a grocery store. That food kept them going for several days even after they gave most of it away to others in need. The sweetness of their spirt, their love for each other and God poured from them as a fountain and blessed the table.
I took a covey of Kings to share Christ with whoever God put into our path. How was I to know that in His plan we were to meet the King and Queen of the Hobos? We left them after the meal and Holly insisted on giving us all hugs. We put a few dollars in their hands and Holly gushed “Abraham we can afford a shower!” A shower. Warm french-fries. A worn out bible. Two of God’s precious children are now walking the streets of Tacoma. Today they had a meal and tomorrow I am sure that God will continue to reveal His grace to them. I am looking forward to seeing them again.
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