There he was . . . A man off the streets, tattered and unkempt. I’m not quite sure how he ended up at church, nor how I ended up in a conversation with him other than God had specifically arranged it.
As we began to visit, he told me some of the circumstances of his childhood. I was smiling as I listened, but on the inside my heart was crying out for all he had been through. My mind was having a hard time comprehending and visualizing what he was telling me. He was a man who seemed to be in his sixties, reflecting back on all the horrific circumstances of his life.
I could quickly see he was gentle. He was kind. He was hurting. He was alone.
As I was hanging on his every word trying to fit the pieces of his life’s puzzle together, I was interrupted and needed elsewhere. I apologized for having to cut our visit short. As we parted he said, “I have such a story to tell about what God has done in my life and no one to tell it to.”
My heart couldn’t take any more as I could feel his loneliness. I was fighting back having a good cry right then and there. How could a man of sixty years not have a soul who he thought would want to hear about him and his life’s story?
How could someone feel so uncared for that no one would want to hear about their story?
With tears in my eyes, I looked him square in the eyes and said, “I want to hear your story.”
We quickly made arrangements for him to write me out his story.
With that said, I want to hear your story too! Will you share?
Are there life happenings you are holding on to that you don’t feel free to share, but yet you know they are eating away at your soul? Do you feel like my new friend above and think maybe no one cares to hear your story?
What’s your story? I’d love to hear it! (email it HERE if you’d like)
Read the rest of the story about my homeless friend HERE.