I had awakened early that Sunday morning, ready for a fun-filled day in Memphis. Since the hotel room prohibited smoking, I made my way downstairs to the outdoor dining area to smoke and have some quiet time. The normally busy streets were relatively empty; only a few people were out and about. There were a couple of NBA players readying themselves for their game that afternoon. A couple sat at a small table sipping their Starbucks. As I watched all theses comings and goings, my eyes were drawn to the corner of the other side of the street. There an old man was digging in the trash can. At once my heart was moved. I made my way to the edge of the sidewalk hoping he would cross the street and walk by me. He did; heading for Beale Street and the hope of trash cans that were not yet emptied by city workers.
“Sir? … Sir?”
He turned his head not believing I had called for him. He was bent with age, and almost toothless. I handed him $10 and said, “Go get something to eat.”
The old man looked at me and asked, “How did you know I was hungry?”
“I saw you digging in that trash can, and the Lord moved me to give you some money to buy yourself something to eat.”
It was then we began talking about the Lord. He had come to Memphis to play the blues. And like countless others, he lived the blues through alcoholism and drug abuse. He said he wouldn't go to church until he had some nice clothes; the people in the church looked down on a ragged homeless man. We talked for half an hour. Then I gave him another $10, hoping it would help him through a few days. It was then he insisted on giving me something. He took a cracked watch off his wrist, handing it to me. With tears in my eyes, I told him I would pray for him … and I do every time I look at that watch. I don't know his name, or what happened to him after our encounter, but I pray for that old man in Memphis; that he has found shelter in the night and a good meal to eat. And I pray that I meet him again one day in heaven.
There are only a handful of people who know about my conversation with that old black man in Memphis on that Sunday morning. However, the Spirit once again moved on me to share it. We have forgotten it is only by the grace of God we are not homeless. We often see a homeless person and think they are simply drug addicts or alcoholics. Perhaps they are; but there is a reason they are; some traumatic event that pushed them over the edge. There could be some traumatic event in our future that will cause us to be homeless. It is only by the grace of God we have homes to go to; families that care; and food on our table. We are so blessed; we have much, much more than we deserve.
When the Spirit moves you to do something for someone, remember Jesus - how He was also homeless. After His crucifixion and resurrection, His apostles were homeless as well. They went from town to town preaching the gospel to rich man and beggar alike. We will never know how much we can do for Christ in other's lives, nor the blessing we miss in our own life if we simply look the other way.
From a Cracked Pot
Looking the other way