Old Man Joy…

Old Man Joy…

Just passing by,….(literally) – through the doors of a diner yesterday, my husband and I had the chance encounter with this man I’ll call “Joy”. A disabled Vet living in a tent for years and was the happiest he had … Continue reading

The Life We Miss…

I saw him sitting there…bundled like a well-wrapped package. Only this package was not pleasing to look at. In fact, it was down right hard.
I watched as others looked at him too. I was not the only one thinking how different he was. He was not one of “us”. Clean & shaven, well dressed and …well rehearsed.
I tried to imagine what had made him that way…Bad life? Alcohol? Laziness?
Wrapped in torn clothes & dirt. Nothing he owned was close to new. They were filthy rags but he was ready for the coming cold.
He ate a little and then went back in for more….Hot soup & coffee. Appropriate, I thought, since he will be trying to stay warm later.

A voice or “thought” kept coming to me during this quick “evaluation” I was making. “That $20 in your left pocket, give it to him”. Yes, Lord! I thought Great idea! He could probably use it.
Then it started. One by one, all the reasons I shouldn’t. The first one being “That’s a lot of money. We really need it”. What if…what if..
Now, I sat condemned. Sitting before my food with thoughts of how the morning had gone. Spending here and there on things that I “wanted”, not needed.
Now before me was black & white. What really mattered. Funny, someone just said the other day…Giving & generosity are a choice.
So I sat. Doing nothing. Frozen. Holding fast to that twenty dollars. Rationalizing it in my mind. A choice. (Oh, how powerful we think we are sometimes). Life is more than what we try to hold on to.
Then it happened. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man walk by him. He had given him something?
Had he given him money? Just like I was going to do…or rather not. I looked back at the bundled man eating his hot soup. He had a look of pleasant disbelief on his face. I glanced downward and saw a folded bill in his hand.
Then the part that overcame me took place. This bundled & torn person, the one everyone politely stared at, closed his eyes, looked towards heaven and whispered “Thank you Lord”.
I couldn’t watch anymore. I could hardly eat. A big lump in my throat was now there. My husband had no clue what had happened, but I felt like “life” had just shown it’s face to me.
It wasn’t about having fun, decorating my house etc. I’m not even sure what it’s really about. I just know it’s not about that. Me, my excuses, my money. It’s always about me….trying to play the part.
And then there’s him. Who has absolutely nothing except the one thing that does matter….God.
May your holidays be about “life” and not the “things”.

James 2:5 Dear Brothers, has not God chosen those who are poor in the eyes of the world to be rich in faith…”