The wind was wild that day.
I scrambled and swerved trying to get the cart to the truck without losing the little ones in tow. Only two today – piece of cake. Two or six, it takes a squadron commander’s bellowing tone to force those littles into buckled seats. I was too busy trying to grab the flying plastic bags to notice him as he got closer.
Excuse me, ma’am.
I startled as I turned my head to see him standing fifteen feet away. His stance was awkward. Unsure. His eyes. Pleading. For a moment I’m sure I saw a glimpse of shame.
He held his hand up, palm facing me. This symbol of reassurance; he had no intention of coming closer,
I see you have kids there.
My eyes scanned the area. People coming and going. Just a middle-of-the-day parking lot.
I answered with words like a warning shot,
I have kids here.
He nodded and held his position,
I just wonder… I just need a couple of dollars. I… we… need something to eat. I don’t want to bother you. It’ll take me all day to get enough together.
My mind retrieved the faces burned to memory. The lady that one day. And James. And Jim. The faces of desperate need etched in my mind.
I smiled at him,
I have something for you.
I reached into my wallet and pulled a bill large enough to feed him lunch for a week. The “we” he was referring to? I knew there was no “we.” Just him.
Why do we do that? Why do we think we are not enough?
Why do we think we aren’t valuable enough – just on our own?
His only hope for help was through someone, anyone, he could call “we.” As if the only worthy souls were the ones in his imagination. As if he needed to prove his desperation, need, and worth to this mom in a parking lot.
I walked toward him,
I have this for you. You won’t have to do this all day.
His eyes widened,
Oh… wow. Are you sure?
Yea, that whole thing about giving being better than receiving? It’s true. Every word. It is better to give.
His sheep are everywhere. We live with them and pass them by day-in and day-out. Sometimes we move on with laser focus and miss them as they stand back in distant fields. We turn our eyes and our hearts the other way. We build our fences and our walls, and wonder when someone will finally go out there and feed them. All the while we have the food right in our hands…
I grinned and shook his hand,
Of course I’m sure. God bless you. What’s your name?
A smile lit his haggard face and showed the only two teeth he had left. The shame vanished from his eyes as his posture relaxed,
I’m Ryan. I just got out of prison.
The truth. Funny how a step forward and a helping hand can chisel away at the facade. The truth. He told me his truth with a relieved sigh.
I nodded and replied,
Our church has a great community re-entry program for people who just got out of prison.
His eyes lit with familiarity. Head nodding vehemently, he went on,
What church do you go to? Do you have a card for your church? There were some guys… when I was in… they came to talk about God. I lost the guy’s card.
Now that’s a thought. I had never considered carrying church cards with me.
I gave him the address and the only names I could come up with,
I expect to see you there on Sunday, Ryan.
He grinned,
Yes. Yes. I want to thank you. I know where it is. I just want to thank you.
I closed the truck and continued to shoo kids into seats as he walked away. This desperate soul who wanders parking lots looking for any sign of life. This soul who thinks he isn’t enough to warrant a hand, or a heart. This hungry soul searching to fill the empty places.
He walked away, and as I watched the back of his casino jacket disappear into the sea of cars…
he looked an awful lot like a lost sheep.
Luke 15:4-7
“Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.’ I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.
