IT'S A LONG WALK FROM THE STREET - A journey with a guy called "Joe" - part 21

The End of The Beginning…

After last Sunday’s service, my Pastor, my wife, my friend and I went to visit with Joe. I had gotten a call early that morning stating that the doctor had informed Joe’s family that he didn’t expect Joe to survive for more than another 24 hours. Our church was in prayer for Joe and for his family.

When we arrived, I saw the shell of the man I knew. I knew that he was all but gone. We prayed for him. We sensed that God was bringing down the curtain on this Act and transitioning Joe for the next Act. There was a sense of peace in the room. My emotions were torn. A part of me wanted to cry because I didn’t want to see him go… I wanted to hear that laugh once more… I wanted to tell him again, “You know I love you,” and hear him reply, “Yeah, I know I love you, too.” I wanted to tell him once more, “You hang in there, now. Okay?” and hear him reply, as he always did, “What else I’m gon’ do?” I was missing him already.

But another part of me was happy. Happy that Joe was about to rest in the arms of the Father… That his stomach wasn’t going to be hurting anymore… that his knees wouldn’t be hurting anymore… that he wouldn’t have to be bored, stuck in a room with nothing but a TV and a portable CD player… that he wouldn’t have to fight with the system to get the help he needed. I was happy that his family had rallied with him… that he had reconnected with his daughter… that his brother and stepmother were working together. I was happy that Joe had met Jesus… that his soul had been saved… that his life had been changed… that his habits had been broken… that his bondages had been loosed… that his hope had been restored… and that he was now being healed right in the valley of the shadow of death.

About 30 minutes after we left the hospital, I got a call from Joe’s stepmother, informing me that Joe had just passed away.

My friend has finally completed his long walk from the street. He went from the street to the front door of the house that was once occupied by his father and mother. And now he had slipped out the back door of his earthly house into the front door of his Heavenly Father’s house. The journey was now complete.

Christopher Mims Simmons, Jr. aka Joe, I will never forget you. Thank you for letting God use you to teach me how to love. Rest well, my brother. I will see you when I, too, pass through that back door and enter into the front door of our Father’s house.

You know I love you.



(In honor of Christopher Simmons, I will post his entire story in order. Enjoy, and be inspired to help the next homeless person you see. That person may be your “Joe.”)