Thankful Courier

Tonight a homeless man showered in Renovation Community’s gym while I waited in the hall.
As I often saw him at a park a 5 minute drive from home, I prayed for guidance. Should I help him, Lord? But I always kept walking, never hearing a clear answer.

This morning I chose the park just seconds from home and saw my answer, lying with his bag and blanket on a bench. He’d walked at least 40 minutes from his usual park to this one.
I stopped to talk. I could instantly tell he’s unique—perhaps Autism or a social disorder. And he’s young.

Would he like a little work at our church building? Pulling weeds? He begins walking to the church. As soon as I finish walking the dog, I drive back to meet him.

I give him some gloves to work in our front yard…shaded with trees planted by hardworking members of the church that’s been on this corner since 1964.
Sunday’s sermon is coming fast. I watch the front window and study, sitting in a Parsonage with #pastorskid stories [the ones like I often share on social media] from decades past. We talk outside as he eats the lunch I made, food bought with money from generous people who pay my salary.

I quiz him during lunch and while we worked together awhile. Mom died 2 years ago; hasn’t heard from dad since junior high. Last year he attended high school was 2015, but didn’t graduate.
I keep bringing bottles of water—gifts from a church member who knows how I use them. At 5pm, I give him a small church check—money from more generous people. My boys each hand him shelf-stable food from our local food bank. Perfect for living on the streets. I tell him to return at 7:30 (after bath and story times) for a shower. Our 7-yr-old yells, “have a good night Mr. _____.”

8pm: I‘m now sitting on a chair older than me, paid for by saints now in Glory, in a gym literally built by church members. A volunteer group finished the floor a few years ago.
My friend keeps the towel and travel size shampoo I gave him—gifts from others who know how they will be used. I hear no ‘Thank You.’ But I know it’s his social disability, not his ingratitude, that ties his tongue.
All this young man received today came from others; donations before his birth made his shower tonight possible. I was merely the courier of past and present generosity.

To all who have given…
Thank you.