Bible

[excel]

It was an unusually cold day for the month of May. Spring had arrived and
everything was alive with color. But a cold front from the North had
brought winter's chill back to Indiana.


I sat, with two friends, in the picture window of a quaint restaurant just
off the corner of the towns-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 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 halfheartedly 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." And
so, 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 storefront
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 you headed from here?"


"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
bed roll 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. 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...

Excel - Greg