Wednesday, September 11, 2013

The Walking Man


Where do we go from here?

Isn't this a question you have asked yourself throughout the obstacle course of your years?  I know I have.  When I was a child I was lost in a store and just asked myself over and over again, "Where do I go?"

When I was a bit older and would not understand a complicated friendship, the nuance of relationships, a parents decision or a new definition of life I would ask again, "Where do I go from here?"

The "Buffy The Vampire Slayer" episode turned musical (yes...  I was a Buffy fan, ok?) had a song with the exact title that was keyed up in my head in my later years when the choices and questions came.  It still is.  I have always figured it out though... at least I think I have.  But, what happens when the "where" is so vague and thepossibility of a solution is foreign.

Last week my husband and I and our four little girls all went to a local Mexican restaurant for some food since we were running late, which is our usual setting I must say. This should really be tattooed on my forehead or just inlaid in my introductions to others so it is to be expected.  One day I will have a rocket ship car fueled by recycled water and get everywhere on time.  Until then give me 10 minutes.  I'll be there

When we walked in and cleared the necessary wide path for our crew to the line to order a young man passed me.  Just a typical young man with short dirty blonde hair, ear phones, cell phone or iPod, black jacket, jeans and over sized tennis shoes that look like marshmallows at the end of his pants.  I wasn't sure what it was, but something about him snagged my soul as we passed and I felt him.  Not literally, but some how.  I felt him.

We ordered, said our grace and began eating.  I am not even sure when this young man appeared again, but right next to me, within a couple of feet, there he was again.  Just playing on his phone, or whatever it was, like we all do far too much and the world passes by around us.

"Excuse me?" He spoke in our direction.  "I hate to ask this, but I have been walking for 12 days, TWELVE days, and I do not have the money for any food.  Would you be willing to give me a little something?"

Every worldly instinct I have conducted an anthem of red flags rising in succession of one another inside me.  He was lying.  He was just trying to get a free meal.  He was some "punk".  But, I just asked a question.  I asked him why he had been walking for so long and where he was going.

When he was nine years old he left home because his dad was abusive and his mom was into drugs.  He didn't want to be around it.  He couldn't be around it anymore.  He left and has been living around the country for a while.  He was walking to Lafayette, where he is from.  I asked him who was there for him and the answer was no one.  But, that is where he is from, so he is going back.

His way was not clear, defined or absolute, but it was his where.  At that point I had verses from the bible tugging at my heart and my biblical world view smeared and erased the red flags.  "But if anyone has the world's goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God's love abide in him?"  (1 John 3:17)

My husband gestured for him to follow him up to the menu and ordered him a meal.  Though trying he didn't have very much more to say than what he had already told us.  I could see he didn't think his story was worth telling even though we knew better.  He came back and sat down again.

We were done and were packing up by then, but I had that pull.  The one you know can only be the Holy Spirit tugging at your heart.  Before I knew what it was I might have thought it was guilt or something else, but I know better now.  I was being told to pray over this young man.

As his food was being unwrapped and prepared for his eager appetite I asked, "Do you mind if we say grace with you?"

"No. That is fine." the words stuttered out and the food regained its position on the plate.  I laid my hand in his rough young hands that were older than his earthly years. The six of us gathered together and my little, giggly, 5 year old Lana reached for his other hand with one of those illuminating smiles she has.  I said grace.  I don't even remember exactly what I said because it wasn't be speaking.  I just let the words flow through me.  The ones he needed to hear to know that our God was right there with him in his travels of life and He has not been forgotten.

That was it.  We left.  In the car I found out that my husband had that same feeling when he first saw him as we walked in the doors.  We were used in the best way possible that day.  Our family, my four little girls, were a part of a bigger story for this young man.  I pray for him and think about him often and pray he has found a "where".  I wish I could have done more, I wish I did do more, but I did exactly what I was supposed to that day.

Just listen.  Listen when you are lost and need to ask yourself, or someone else, where to go.  Listen when someone else is lost and you can help them.  You never know when you will be used in the best ways possible.


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