"I'm a beggar…"

He was there when we showed up today. He was there when we left. Actually left a few minutes before us. Large bag of bread slung over his shoulder. On his way to feed the fishes. In the lagoon that is centered in the park that we frequent every Sunday. Like I said, he was there when we got there. As I pulled the van up to the corner, I could tell he’d already been drinking. You see, he spent the last 10 days in jail. The Douglas County Corrections Center has some goofy policy that they should release people around 3 a.m. on Sunday mornings. 3 a.m.? Are you kidding me? Apparently their computer systems are down for whatever reason on Sunday mornings, so they release these guys at 3 a.m. on Sunday mornings before their system goes down. So what do you think a homeless fellow is going to do at 3 a.m. on a Sunday morning after having been cooped up for 10 days on an open container charge? Pretty easy to figure that one out. So when we saw him at noon today? He was feeling no pain. But Robin and I had a conversation with him a couple hours later and there was most certainly pain. On both sides. For us and him.

We met this fellow, to the best of my recollection, on November 12, 2006. In the Office. That concrete, walled place in the middle of the park where he and several of his buddies plied their trades. In their Office. It was a place that once had lots of activity. Not so much anymore. The city pretty much cleaned it out. Took out the benches that were once there. And the fellows have moved their "workplaces" to other confines. But that was where we first met. That first Sunday that now seems so long ago. And today we met once again in the general vicinity of that spot in the park. As soon as we pulled up, I knew it was going to be a bit of a challenging day. Because as much as I hate to admit it, I have my favorites. And he is one of them. In fact, truth be told, he’s probably one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met. At least when he’s sober. No doubt about it. And as Robin and I talked with him today, we just told him how much he meant to us. And he reciprocated. There was just so much hurt. You could just feel it. You know how people get when they’ve been drinking and the truth starts coming out? Not that falling down, stumbling, food spitting kind of drunkenness. But the kind when a guy is starting to sober up a bit and the real truth begins to emerge. That kind of truth. The kind that we rarely see from our friends. At least from my perspective. But we see it often from this fellow. Now I’ve written about him many times. Many. Because he is just simply one of my favorite people.

As we got ready to leave the park today, we had a pretty decent conversation with him. With our kids poking each other in the van, and all the other peripheral activity happening around us, we talked. And at one point, he was questioning us. Why? Why do you guys care so much? Why? And he was insistent that he could never change. Ever. That’s so hard to hear. Eight years on the streets. And I’d guess that about 7.5 or more of those years have been spent in a fog. Maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but I bet not. I mean, 8 years? On the streets? I don’t know but I’d be worn out. And he is. Said so himself. And I mentioned what amazing things God can do for him. I sometimes feel as though I have to be measured in what I say to some of these guys. Everyone thinks they can save these guys from themselves. It’s so easy to give the pat Christian response to a guy in this situation. ‘God can take care of you and your problems man!" "If you just give it all up to God, he’ll take all your worries away!" But to a guy who has spent 8 years living under bridges, in shelters, wherever, well, that’s a difficult concept to grasp. I mean, it’s true. He can and will take our problems. He took care of that a couple thousand years ago. But it’s so easy sometimes to spout our cute little advice to a guy who has no idea what that really means. Sometimes I’m not sure I know what it really means.

So at one point in our conversation, I simply mentioned what an amazing individual he was in God’s eyes. And he immediately went for his wallet. And buried in his wallet, was a piece of paper, folded over several times. On that piece of paper was familiar handwriting. To me anyway. It was Robin’s handwriting. And it spoke exactly of that. How this fellow was an amazing creation of Christ and how God loved him more than any of us could ever fathom. And when he read it, the tears came. And the emotions flowed. He just doesn’t understand why we care. And he doesn’t have to. But he knows we do. And that is what this is all about. Relationships that now have been formed and even though, in most cases, they are only nurtured on a weekly basis for a couple of hours, well, I have to hope that is better than nothing. We need to do more. That’s for sure. This fellow today is convinced that he can never change. Told me, in his own words, "I’m a beggar." That’s so hard to hear. Especially from this fellow. He says he wants to change, but knows he can’t. Knows it. And inside, I’m just busting to tell him that he CAN change. But he and I both know that he has to want it. And right now? He can’t do it. And through his tears and emotions, I could tell he meant it. He is convinced this is it for him. I’m not so sure.

So he was there when we arrived. And he was there when we left. Heading down to the lagoon to feed the fish. And I pray that he shows up next week. And the week after that and the week after that. I pray that he endures and perseveres. That he somehow, in some way finds hope. He’s not a beggar. I mean, we’re all beggars in a sense. But he has so much more to offer. And somehow I have to be able to convince him of that. He says we can’t change him. He’s right. But maybe we can be agents of change. God’s tools. He once told me I was God’s tool. I pray that God would just empower us to be that to this fellow and all the others. That he would somehow use us in some way to make a difference.

We also boast of our troubles, because we know that trouble produces endurance, endurance brings God's approval, and his approval creates hope. This hope does not disappoint us, for God has poured out his love into our hearts by means of the Holy Spirit, who is God's gift to us. ~Romans 5:3-5

Peace, have a great and blessed week and make a difference.

So then, my dear friends, stand firm and steady. Keep busy always in your work for the Lord, since you know that nothing you do in the Lord's service is ever useless. ~1 Corinthians 15:58

…it matters to that one… :)