I just spent the last hour of my life with a man I’ve never met before.
I pulled into the church parking lot from lunch and he was pushing a shopping cart across our property.
He asked to use our restroom to wash his hands.
I let him.
I stood with him while he washed and he said, “You don’t trust me, do you?”
I said, “I don’t know you.”
He said, “Exactly.”
Then he preached for about 40 minutes.
I let him tell me how Jesus lived.
I let him tell me that I need to have more faith.
I let him read Psalm 33 to me… the entire chapter.
I let him tell me that the people in our church probably don’t appreciate what we have.
I let him tell me that God would bless me in unbelievable ways.
I let him tell me that my soon-to-be-born daughter would be a blessing to my family as well as lead people to Jesus.
I let him tell me that before I go to bed tonight, I need to be thankful for the blessings God will give me in anticipation of those things.
I let him go a little Mark Driscoll on me.
I let him hug me.
Why did I let him do all that?
I don’t know.
It’s not in my nature to entertain a conversation with a homeless person who smells, who is missing most of his teeth, and who looks like I can only imagine John the Baptizer looked.
By the end I had promised him I’d be thankful for what I have.
I gave him a new bible, because his was stolen.
I gave him the book Crazy Love, by Francis Chan.
I gave him two bottles of water and some mini-cupcakes.
And I felt a sense of unity.
On a normal day, I would not have entertained it.
But this time, I’m glad I did.
“Do not forget to show hospitality to [entertain] strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it.” Hebrews 13:2
This is not the first time I’ve had strangers, who were homeless basically prophecy to me. The first time was when Erica was pregnant with Josiah. She told me that He would be an amazing man of God. This time Erica is pregnant again.