The phone rang on Thursday. Sandy, do you know of anywhere I can work? I NEED to be working. I recognized the voice as Johns, a very nice man who helped me move furniture into the new home of a formerly homeless lady. John has been on the street for a couple of months and this life was new to him, homeless after the death of his young son because of human error during a hernia operation. Grief. Bad choices. I cant live this life on the streets. I want to make money, pay bills, have four walls. Thanks to a friend, Dez Stephens, who had given me tickets to the Predators hockey game that night, I was able to offer him an evening of fun. How were we to know that this was all part of Papas plan? We enjoyed the game and John stayed at our house that night. The next day he collected clothes and household items as people delivered them, then put them on the shelves for me while I did my life coaching. Then he sat at the computer and called for jobs off of craigslist. In a minute John is getting picked up by his new employer. He is given a healthy wage, a place to live...and hope. I smiled as he rummaged through the garage to get his toiletries, undies, socks, clothes and backpack for his new venture. I sit and smile as I listen to him praising God. He called about work, I invited him to the hockey game, gave him a place to lie his head, a computer to peruse for work, an address for the employer to pick him up at. When men tell possible employers they stay at the Rescue Mission, they hear a click at the other end of the line. He smiled as he gave my address, said he was staying at a friends house. Our God is a God of details. Patience brings open windows. What joy as I watch the boys sit in the patio, sharing, talking about God, second chances. I can hear their conversation wafting through the open window, praises riding on the winds. To Dez and her husband, Chuck, for the tickets, Beth Torrence, for food to feed the men here, for every one of you who gave money or clothes, toiletries and toothbrushes that come in big boxes to my doorstep, Kathy Kallas and those who pray for the men and women who are crying for a t-shirt, a pair of pants, to be loved and given a second chance; John Perry, for so unselfishly giving up your nice tennis shoes that just happened to be the size he needed. You are all the hands and feet of Jesus. From John and the men and women of the streets who received e live from you...Well done good and faithful servants!
Posted on: Sat, 27 Sep 2014 14:37:46 +0000
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