when God shows up

My last post made me think again of some of the good things that have come as we've reached out to people on our streets. I've said that this kind of work is often a low fruit-yield kind of thing, so we hold tightly to the victories God gives. We savor them, squeezing out of them every bit of encouragement, strength and lesson, so we're equipped for long days ahead. I'd like to share one such story with you now. One that took place a few years ago, but continues to inspire us today:

Mike was a middle-aged homeless man who came regularly for food, prayer and connection. He was friendly, outgoing and searching for a better life. But Mike was a stone-cold alcoholic, and couldn't escape its clutches no matter what he tried. He claimed he wanted to get sober and had family in Wisconsin who told him if he got his act together, he could come home. But there was no going home. He was trapped, enslaved, and destroying himself. He hated what he'd become, and lacked the power to make it different.

We had lots of talks about what it would mean for him to follow Christ, and how Jesus could make the change in him that he so desperately desired. How it's futile to try to get clean first then come to Jesus, but that He's more than willing to change lives given to Him. It sounded good...too good to be true. Mike struggled with Jesus' call and with his own struggle responding to it. Months passed and little looked different. But God was quietly working on Mike, and one day he told us that he was ready to give his life to Christ and to walk a new way, although he knew it would be the hardest thing he ever did.

So Mike prayed and called on Jesus to make him a new man. Little by little things changed in his life. He was baptized into his new-found faith, and habits and patterns began to turn. Not that he didn't drink any more, but he drank markedly less. His demeanor changed. He began to speak with hope and possibility for himself. His grandest dream was to be reconciled with his family and he dreamed of the time when he might return sober, ready to resume a relationship with them.

One morning I arrived at work to find Mike sitting outside, crying. Crying hard. I sat next to him and asked why. He told me that he'd just received word from his ex-wife that their 8 year-old daughter had been killed the night before in an auto accident. Hit by a drunk driver. Mike said he told his wife to get his guns out and have them ready, because he was coming home to kill the man who had killed his little girl. I cried with him for awhile. A long while. Not much to say in that kind of moment. Only hurt with him in his loss.

Mike was at a crossroads- a place where the next decisions he'd make and path he'd choose would impact the rest of his life. In my next post, I'll share just what happened and the difference it made...