Blessing

Ever since I started working in downtown Cincinnati, I’ve been searching for my purpose here. Sure, I’m supposed to be a good husband to Jenn, but I can be a good husband to Jenn anywhere. (I’m still working on the whole good husband thing. I love her so much, but I also make a lot of mistakes. At least she likes me. :-) So why am I in Cincinnati? I confess I’m not a big fan of the place, though I do enjoy walks through the park at lunch time. I’m grateful for my job, but I’m restless in it. So what do I do? In my last blog entry, I noted some of my passions, include helping the homeless. I’ve sort of made it a hobby of mine to try to feed a homeless person whenever I see one. I know Jenn is both stressed and proud of me when I do this: we don’t have a lot of money, but I just need to give. These people don’t have anything.

So anyway, last Friday during lunchtime I walked to the ATM machine to pull some cash out. I prayed to bless someone as I walked there, but I saw no one. I grabbed my cash, and looked again. As I approached the corner where Starbucks and Duke Energy are located, I looked across the street and saw a man sitting in front of Walgreen’s. He was smoking a cigarette and had a cardboard sign in his hands. I turned, crossed the street, and knelt down before him.

“Hi, there! Are ya hungry? If it’s okay with you, Sir, I’d like to take you out to eat.”

He looked at me a little surprised and said, “Yeah, I’d like to. I haven’t eaten all day.”

I smiled at him and said, “Come on, let’s go.”

He put out his cigarette and scrambled to put all his things into his duffel bag. He said, “My name is Richard,” as we started walking.

“My name is Derek, and it’s nice to meet you too, Richard,” I replied. “Now, what would you like? There’s a Wendy’s right here or Skyline Chili and some others. What can I get you?”

“Wendy’s is fine,” he said, so we walked into Wendy’s and got in line.

“Well, what would you like?” I asked.

“I just want a fish sandwich and an ice water,” he replied. I looked at him a little stunned. He could have asked for more. I was willing to get him more.

“What, you don’t like fries? I’ll get you fries,” I said.

“No, it’s okay,” he said, “You’re already nice enough to get me a sandwich,” he stated.

“Richard, get anything you want!” I said, pointing at the menu.

Still, he chose to get the sandwich and water and backed away from the counter while I waited in line. As he walked off to the side, I couldn’t help but notice that he looked around a lot. He seemed nervous and uncomfortable, not because he thought he was in trouble, but rather, he seemed concerned about what people thought of him being there. My guess is that he felt like he didn’t belong in Wendy’s, or maybe around a group of people who were cleaned up and employed. I realized he did not feel safe. I watched him closely and noticed that he wasn’t the stereotypical homeless man that you imagine when you hear the word “homeless.” He wasn’t dirty, and he didn’t smell bad. He wasn’t exactly well-groomed, sporting a long bushy beard, but he didn’t look that raggedy. But what struck me most was how tired and worn-down he looked. You could just see it in his eyes: he needed help. My heart reached out to this man, and I was happy to be able to put something warm in his belly. However, I wasn’t the only one who felt for him.

As I watched Richard, the man in front of me turned around and shoved a five-dollar bill into my hand, saying, “I see what you’re doing. It’s a nice thing to do.”

I was stunned.

“Sir, you don’t have to do this,” I replied, handing the money back to him, but he waved me off and walked away. I didn’t know what to do with myself for a moment. I started to tear up as I handed the five-dollar bill to the cashier, and I continued to fight back the tears while waiting for the food. This man saw kindness and gave it back out of nowhere. It dawned on me then that giving breeds giving. The fact that I was loving Richard by trying to feed him worked in the heart of someone else too. (Or, should I say it was the Holy Spirit that worked in his heart?)

The cashier gave me Richard’s food, with an extra cup of water, and I handed Richard the food. As I looked at his rough and bearded face, I couldn’t help but feel compassion for this man, and in my heart I knew exactly what to say. I reached my arm out to him and said, “The Lord wants you to know that He has not forgotten you.”

Richard looked at me for a brief moment and replied, “I know.”

I held the door open for him as he walked back out into the street, and I told him if I saw him again out here I’d feed him.

I walked back to work feeling something in me that I could only describe as purpose. In that moment, God had given me an opportunity to bless someone, and in doing so, he also allowed someone else an opportunity to bless me. I felt in that moment that God’s purpose and will was served through me, and it was such an amazing feeling. Now here I am three days later writing about this, and I’m thinking that what happened really was such a small thing. However, this “small thing” blessed three people that day. I’m thankful for the opportunity to bless Richard that day, and I’ll be sure to pray for him in the future. But in the meantime, I’m going keep blessing other people. It’s the only way to live.