Thursday, July 15, 2010

Giovanni a man of the streets

I knew he was watching me. Have you ever been doing something and you can just feel the pounding gaze of another pressing on your back and shoulders. The nerve some people with their imposing glare. A brief check of the obvious yields a lack of nose dirt (I need not explain) nor fallen zipper, so why the glare? Making eye contact yields immediate results typically when the glaring person realizes they've been discovered, but my return gaze brought only the realization that this man was not in fact glaring, but, searching. Non in the typical shifty-eyed search of one's person or the awkward search of a desire to fulfill lustful thoughts, but a searching of something more. This man seemed to be searching INSIDE of me, using my eyes as a way of gaining access to my inmost parts.

I continued to set up my computer and to nervously glance in the direction of, though not directly at, my pursuer I could tell that he continued to watch my every move. Make no mistake, though seated perfectly still and in the same position as when I had first walked through the door, there was no mistake this man continued his chase though for what he was searching, I had no idea.

I ordered, big surprise, Venti Pike with caramel and an empty stomach suggested a breakfast sandwich was in order. I sat down to sip my beloved brew and noticed the man, now having to sit sideways in his seat to continue his watch. He would shift nervously in his seat making arrangements of the various objects scattered on the table in front of him or to take small sips of whatever graced his "Tall" beverage cup. Angryman offeres these thoughts about the ridiculous starbuck's sizes:

"Referring to a small beverage as tall, takes beverage size deception to new heights. I checked my dictionary to see if any definition of Tall would provide an excuse for using this particular adjective to describe the smallest of three sizes. Nope. I did finally find an answer in my thesaurus "…as in tall tale: absurd, difficult, embellished, exorbitant, far-fetched, implausible, outlandish, overblown, preposterous, steep, unbelievable, unreasonable." Bingo."

Whatever his reason for diligently keeping visual post of my actions it was obvious they wouldn't be revealed unless direct confrontation was engaged. "English Muffin for Mark?" After I ate of course. A very warm and great smelling sandwich lay in wait on the table before me just begging to be consumed but caution, not to mention the pyroclastic nature of heat coming from the foil wrapped sandwich would heed me to stave my hunger. Then it hit me, the smell of the streets wafted my way and I noticed, the clothes: worn and old, the hair: tired and greesy, unkept and the telltale bag at his feet. This man was homeless. I immediately had him pegged of course, he wanted money, he wanted a ride, he wanted to hock my laptop for drugs, etc.

Except his eyes.

They didn't ask for any of those things, they just search for kindness. They searched for love, they searched for someone who wouldn't judge him as many others may have, but they looked for someone to treat him like a human being. It was at that moment that it hit me. This man could be someone's brother. This man is possibly someone's dad. This man, is someone's son.

"Have you had any breakfast this morning?" This was less an offer and more an excuse to cling to my food. Sad, sad man.

"Bet it's expensive here..." he said reminding me that in fact, this sandwich WAS expensive, not to mention: MINE!

But then God burst through my hardness and in a rush of compassion, I said, "Not when someone gives it to you..." With that, I handed him the sandwich, still wrapped, still pulsing with extreme amounts of heat, still smelling of melted cheese, sausage, and egg on a English Muffin.

"Goodbye breakfast" I said in my head as I watched him methodically dismantle the sandwich. He didn't even say "thank you." God, is it too much for the hobo to say "Thanks"? God why is it that these people think that the world OWES THEM something? Why is it that these people think that it is okay to take without showing gratitude for the generosity of people who help to sustain them during their desperate hour of need? As I typed and sipped my liquid breakfast, I stewed. To be honest, I felt a bit like Jonah, reluctant obedience followed by brooding and anger when God's will is done. Then it happened. As if he had access to my private thoughts, as if privy to my secret groanings to the Creator, he turned and clenched my hand in both of his and said, "Thanks." He said it three more times to me as he reluctantly let go of my hand and packed up his stuff and walked stiffly out the door and down the street.

I sat in disbelief and in awe. God had again, talked to me. "Justice or Mercy? What have I called you to show?" The man behind the counter at Starbuck's placed a plate, with a breakfast sandwich on the table in front of me and said, "I saw the whole thing, thanks." Not only did God gut check me, but in his Mercy, by His Grace, he thought it good to reward me, not for my attitude, but my willingness to be obedient. God is once again teaching me, to trust Him for the outcome of my obedience, what He is calling me to, is faithfulness.

Matthew 25:34 vv. "Then the King will say to those on his right, 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.' Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?' "The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'

p.s. I saw the man again this past Sunday and learned his name is "Giovanni."

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