It's A Long Walk From The Street
A journey with a guy named "Joe" - part 3

Our church does wonderful things in the community. For Thanksgiving, like many other churches, we provide food for persons in need. Joe came to the church on the Saturday before Thanksgiving to receive the gifts we were giving and to share in the Thanksgiving service that we held. It was a GREAT service. Afterward, I got a chance to sit and talk with Joe. He shared with me that he was going to give the food he was receiving to a couple of households that help him out so that they could cook the food and give him some of it. He knew that he didn’t have any way of preparing the food himself so he needed to share it if he was going to eat any of it.

Finally, I felt comfortable enough to ask him the one question that had been bouncing around in my head. “Why aren’t you staying in a shelter?” Joe began to explain to me that all of his ID had been lost or stolen and you can’t stay in a shelter without ID. He said he tried to get his ID but found out he needed his birth certificate – and he lost that as well. So he just gave up.

This was the moment for me. This was when it became clear that I was changing. I didn’t feel a hope or wish that someone would help Joe. I felt like this man was now my responsibility. Having worked in a homeless shelter and recovery center before, I had an idea of what I was getting into. I knew that there would be a chance that I could get this guy all the help he needed and get him into a nice residence – and he would end up back on the streets. But, I also knew that this was what I had prayed for. I wanted to be the hands and feet of Jesus and reach out to someone in need. Joe was my man at that pool of Bethesda and I needed to be Jesus, motivating him to rise up and walk.

It's A Long Walk From The Street
A journey with a guy named "Joe" - pt 2

This older gentleman unwrapped himself from the bedding and came toward me, clothed in his hat and coat. I told him that my wife and I wanted to bless him with some food. Yes, I admit, I probably didn’t deserve any credit whatsoever. By this time, I heard the dinging of the car. Looking over my shoulder, I saw my wife coming into the clearing where this gentleman and me were standing. I introduced myself and my wife to him. He told us that his name was “Joe”. We told him that we were from the church on the corner. He said that he’d been there several times and knew our pastor. Joe gave us big hugs, showing obvious gratitude for the food we had given him. We invited him to church and he agreed to come.

The following Sunday, sure enough, he was there – sitting in the back. My wife and I got to speak with him after service. He seemed surprised that we remembered his name. I was certainly surprised that he remembered ours.

Ever since then, we couldn’t pass that spot without looking for Joe.

Not long after, I found myself reminiscing on a recent self-evaluation where I cited that I needed to become better at caring for people not only in the immediate moment but carrying their plight to completion – helping them get to that point that things actually get better. I remembered the revelation of how easy it is for me to pray for someone in the immediate moment – then forget about their pain the next day. I wanted God to work on my heart and help me to care enough to carry people in my heart.

Every few weeks I’d see Joe at service. We stayed acquainted. I made sure he didn’t forget me and my wife’s names. I prayed for him often – that God would protect him and provide for him. Several times I wondered what his story was… what brought him to this stage of life. Yeah, this guy was actually on my heart.

To be continued…

It's A Long Walk From The Street
A journey with a guy named "Joe"

This is a long story that is still in the making. So, I’m going to have to tell it to you in pieces.

Part 1

It all started one night as we were leaving church. My wonderful wife has a tremendous heart, which I covet. She is a giver to the core. She’s the kind of person who literally gives the clothes off her back, takes jewelry off her neck and wrists and food from our refrigerator. Every time I’ve wanted to get upset at how much she gives I have to consider how little I give and it makes me repentant. Having had her brother live homeless for a while caused her to become particularly sensitive to homelessness.

We were pulling into the church one evening, headed to the back parking lot and my wife noticed a person lying in a makeshift bed on the ground in the bushes near the church. Brought nearly to tears, she couldn’t dismiss the image from her mind. All that evening, she kept mentioning the person in the bushes. After service, we got in our car and she said to me, “Let’s drive around again and see if the person in the bushes is still there. If he or she is, I want to take them something to eat.” At that time, we were distributing some food from the church’s pantry to persons who were in need of immediate assistance. We circled the block and found the person still there. We didn’t stop because we didn’t want to make the person suspicious or self-conscious. Immediately returning to the church, my wife gathered a bag full of food from the pantry that could sustain this person for a few days. We got back in the car and headed back to the bushes.

Not knowing how this person would respond, I told my wife, “You stay in the car and I’ll go out.” I stepped out of the car, walked toward to makeshift bed and called out, “Excuse me. Excuse me.”