Jesus Came Back

About a month ago I wrote about an experience I had. I was approached by a homeless man for money, money for a shelter, he wanted a hug ‘in the name of Jesus', amongst other things. I turned him away in a not-so-kindly manner. I wrote about it here and I really encourage you to go read it before reading the rest of this post. Consider this the sequel, a continuation of my journey through life…

Every Tuesday night some friends and I get together in a local bar. Part of me hesitates to call it a bar because, well, they serve coffee and special food and it doesn't seem like a bar. It smells like a bar. It looks like a bar. But because of the coffee, I consider it a coffee shop with extra strong coffee ‘options'. Anyway, we gather there to talk about theology.

It's called "Theology Pub". Part of me thinks it's really ridiculous. Sometimes the intention is to talk about theology; issues of our faith that we're really wrestling with, other times we just sit and catch up. I've come to find out that a lot happens to each of us in a week's time and theology pub has become a great place to lay prayer requests on the table. It's a powerful thing because these are Christians who actually pick them up and pray over them - they even follow up the next week to see how things have or haven't improved. And, yes, they drink beer.

I was sitting there tonight and started dozing off. It gave me the impression that I was pretty tired, so I decided to head home for the night. I said my goodbyes, made my way through the haze of smoke, and walked outside. It's finally winter here in Wichita. Today our first ‘official' cold front came through. It's a biting 40 degrees out… with wind. Needless to say, the cold punched me in the face when I stepped out of the bar.

I started walking to my car, which was a block away - parking was severely limited when I arrived earlier. But as I was making my way to the car, I saw this guy ride his bike out of the alley. I'm not going to lie, it was kind of creepy seeing someone emerge from the darkness on a bicycle, especially when you realize they're talking to you.

"You still got your black friends?" he asked.

"Excuse me," I inquired because I wasn't sure if I heard him right.

"You still got your black friends?"

"Well, yeah. I have lots of black friends." I was puzzled at what having ‘black friends' had to do with anything, but I knew he was checking me out so I just went with it. I immediately knew this guy was homeless, too, but I couldn't understand why he looked so familiar. I had seen him before but I knew I hadn't ever seen him at Church on the Street.

"Listen brother," he began, "It's pretty cold tonight and I'm sleeping in a shack that I built. I was wondering if I could have a few bucks to recharge my propane tank?"

A few weeks ago I had bought several blankets to keep in my car so when I'm driving around at night and see someone camped out on the side of the road, I can do what I can to help keep them warm. I offered all of the blankets to this guy and he didn't want them. He said he had plenty, that what he really wanted was actual heat. "Just a few bucks," he pleaded. I truly had no cash on me, so I told him he could follow me to my car and I would check the ashtray.

We made conversation on the way to my car. His name was Tater - obviously not his real name. A lot of times the homeless won't give their real name, but a nickname or such, just to avoid being picked off by cops or something. Tater's from California but came here when he found out his mother was sick, but now he's trapped on the street and does what he can to get by, including begging. I was able to give him about $1.50 in change - all I had - and then he asked me to pray for him. So I took his request and gave it to God. It was powerful. He also asked for prayer for one of his friends. Despite his condition, his faith astounded me.

And on my way home, I just smiled. I remember where I saw this guy last. He was that other face of Jesus that I told to ‘buzz off' up the road a month before. Talk about a renewed opportunity.

Maybe there's no such thing as second chances, but I think God's pretty passionate about restoration. I think he remembered how much that experience had scarred me, how dirty and rotten I felt. I truly believe that he presented me with an opportunity to not redeem myself, but I believe he let me tangibly feel the restoration in my own heart. And maybe I don't know what I'm talking about, but I really don't care. I just know that God rocked my life tonight… again.