THE
DAY I MET
DANIEL
It was
an unusually cold day for the month of May. Spring had arrived and everything
was alive with color. But a cold front from the north had brought winter's
chill back to Indiana.
I sat
with two friends in the picture window of a quaint restaurant just off
the corner of the town square. The food and the company were especially
good that day. As we talked, my attention was drawn outside, across the
street. There, walking into town, was a man who appeared to be carrying
all his worldly goods on his back. He was carrying a well worn sign that
read, "I will work for food." My heart sank. I brought him to the attention
of my friends and noticed that others around us had stopped eating to focus
on him. Heads moved in a mixture of sadness and disbelief. We continued
with our meal, but his image lingered in my mind. We finished our meal
and went our separate ways. I had errands to do and quickly set out to
accomplish them.
I
glanced toward the town square, looking somewhat half heartedly for the
strange visitor. I was fearful, knowing that seeing him again would call
for some response. I drove through town and saw nothing of him. I made
some purchases at a store and got back in my car. Deep within me, the spirit
of God kept speaking to me: "Don't go back to the office until you've at
least driven once more around the square." And so, with some hesitancy,
I headed back into town. As I turned the square's third corner, I saw him.
He was standing on the steps of the storefront church, going through his
sack. I stopped and looked, feeling both compelled to speak to him, yet
wanting to drive on. The empty parking space on the corner seemed to be
a sign from God: an invitation to park. I pulled in, got out and approached
the town's newest visitor.
"Looking
for the pastor?" I asked.
"Not
really," he replied. "Just resting."
"Have
you eaten today?"
"Oh,
I ate something early this morning."
"Would
you like to have lunch with me?"
"Do
you have some work I could do for you?"
"No
work," I replied. "I commute here to work from the city, but I would like
to take you to lunch."
"Sure,"
he replied with a smile. As he began to gather his things, I asked some
surface questions.
"Where
you headed?"
"St.
Louis."
"Where
you from?"
"Oh,
all over, mostly Florida."
'How
long you been walking?"
"Fourteen
years," came the reply.
I knew
I had met someone unusual.
We sat
across from each other in the same restaurant I had left only minutes earlier.
His hair was long and straight, and he had a neatly trimmed dark beard.
His skin was deeply tanned, and his face was weathered slightly beyond
his 38 years. His eyes were dark yet clear, and he spoke with an eloquence
and articulation that was startling. He removed his jacket to reveal a
bright red T-shirt that said:
"Jesus
Is The Never Ending Story."
Then
Daniel's story began to unfold. He had seen rough times early in life.
He'd made some wrong choices and reaped the consequences. Fourteen years
earlier, while backpacking across the country, he had stopped on the beach
in Daytona. He tried to hire on with some men who were putting up a large
tent and some equipment. A concert, he thought. He was hired, but the tent
would not house a concert but revival services, and in those services he
saw life more clearly. He gave his life over to God.
"Nothing's
been the same since," he said. "I felt the Lord telling me to keep walking,
and so I did, some 14 years now."
"Ever
think of stopping?" I asked.
"Oh,
once in a while, when it seems to get the best of me. But God has given
me this calling. I give out Bibles. That's what's in my sack. I work to
buy food and Bibles, and I give them out when His spirit leads."
I sat amazed.
My homeless Friend was not homeless. He was on a mission and lived this
way by choice. The question burned inside for a moment and then I asked,
"What's it like?"
"What?"
"To
walk into a town carrying all your things on your back and to show your
sign?"
"Oh,
it was humiliating at first. People would stare and make comments. Once
someone tossed a piece of half eaten bread and made a gesture that certainly
didn't make me feel welcome. But then it became humbling to realize that
God was using me to touch lives and change people's concepts about other
folks like me." My concept was changing too. We finished our dessert and
gathered his things.
Just
outside the door he paused. He turned to me and said, "Come ye blessed
of my Father and inherit the kingdom I've prepared for you. For when I
was hungry you gave me food, when I was thirsty you gave me drink, a stranger
and you took me in."
I felt
as if we were on holy ground.
"Could
you use another Bible?" I asked.
He
said he preferred a certain translation. It traveled well and was not too
heavy. It was also his personal favorite. "I've read through it 14 times,"
he said.
"I'm
not sure we've got one of those, but let's stop by our church and see."
I was able to find my new friend a Bible that would do well, and he seemed
very grateful.
"Where
you headed from here? I asked.
"Well,
I found this little map on the back of an amusement park coupon."
"Are
you hoping to hire there for a while?"
"No,
I just figure I should go there. I figure someone under that star right
there needs a Bible, so that's where I'm going next." He smiled and the
warmth of his spirit radiated his mission.
I drove
him back to the town square where we'd met two hours earlier, and as we
drove, it started raining. We parked to unload his things. "Would you sign
my autograph book?" he asked. "I like to keep messages from folks I meet."
I wrote
in his little book that his commitment to his calling had touched my life.
I encouraged him to stay strong. And I left him with a verse of scripture,
Jeremiah 29:11.
"I
know the plans I have for you," declared the Lord, "plans to prosper you
and not to harm you. Plans to give you a future and a hope."
"Thanks,
man," he said.
"I know
we just met and we're really just strangers, but I Love you."
"I
know," I said, "I Love you, too."
"The
Lord is good."
"Yes.
He is. How long has it been since someone hugged you?" I asked.
"A
long time," he replied.
And
so on the busy street corner in the drizzling rain, my new friend and I
embraced, and I felt deep inside that I had been changed. He put his things
on his back, smiled his winning smile and said, "See you in New Jerusalem."
"I'll
be there!" was my reply.
He
headed away with his sign swinging from his bedroll and a pack of Bibles.
He stopped,
turned and said, "When you see something that makes you think of me, will
you pray for me?"
"You
bet," I shouted back. "God Bless."
And
that was the last I saw of him.
Later
that evening as I left my office, the wind blew strong. The cold air front
had settled hard upon the town. I bundled up and hurried to my car. As
I sat back and reached for the emergency brake, I saw them ~~ a pair of
well worn brown work gloves neatly laid over the length of the handle.
I picked them up and thought of my friend and wondered if his hands would
stay warm that night without them. I remembered his words: "If you see
something that makes you think of me, will you pray for me?" Today his
gloves lie on my desk in my office. They help me to see the world and it's
people in a new way, and they help me to remember those two hours with
my unique friend and to pray for his ministry.
"See
you in New Jerusalem," he said.
Yes
Daniel, I know I will.
(Written by Richard
Ryan)
"Daniel"
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