A priceless gift.
1/30 10PM. We finally walked outta 10 Evans. Usual Friday night hangout after Large Group.
The air was crisp and refreshing. Laughter hung in the air - traces of the Spirit still lingering on from a powerful night.
We head over to Asian Ghetto for some boba and Steve's.
I'm digging the Tupac, man.
He was sitting in his usual spot outside the Ghetto. Music blasting from his new stereo. He had told me on Tuesday that he bought it no less than a week ago.
I break away from the crowd and head over to his stack of crates.
He starts telling me about his girlfriend. How surprised he was to see me - he had mentioned my name talking to someone earlier that day. He was from Suitcase, but he had forgotten his name. I ran through a few names. He still couldn't remember.
Little tidbits of conversations. Snapshots and glimpses into his life.
A girl walks over with some fresh popcorn chicken from Sweetheart's.
Would you like some? I had dinner already.
He declines, politely, saying that he too, already had dinner.
No really - she insists.
Thank you very much. God bless.
He accepts, somewhat reluctantly, but still graciously. He sets them next down in the bottom-most crate in the stack.
He asks me about Suitcase Clinic and how everything was going. We're looking into new services - lots of them. HIV education, TB testing...
A worker from Kingpin Donuts walks over with a pink box in hand. He stops in front of us, and bows his head so slightly, presenting the box to him.
No naw man, I can't take these.
Here. They are for you. Please.
Naw, naw man. I can't have sweets.
Please.
Again he accepts, ever so reluctantly but still so graciously.
After the man walked back into the shop, he looked straight into my eyes.
Take em Jess. You got to. I can't take stuff like this. I'm on a diet remember!
We go back and forth. I can't take it. I can't take it.
In the end, he shoves the dozen into my arms.
Go and share 'em with your friends now. I'll see you next week, yeah?
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I am ... still speechless.
The more I think about, the more I grow in awe of what a beautiful moment that I had witnessed. Participated in. Became a part of.
A homeless man just gave you a dozen donuts Jess. I'm trying to help put it into perspective for you!
I didn't even need my roommate to.
Part of me was numb, part of me went frantic. Part of me was overwhelmed, part of me guilty, part of me just.. didn't know if that was doing the right thing.
All I remember was just carrying this smile - a genuine smile - on my face as I turned towards the Ghetto and walked around to offer them to everyone. IV kids, strangers.
What's the catch? they all asked.
None- just say thanks to the man sitting on the crate.
I walked around offering donuts not of my own. Each of them carried a little piece of the baker's heart, of his heart. And all I did was deliver some of that joy right along.
A full day has passed already, but I am still learning from his simple action.
One simple act of giving.
I had prayed earlier that night, as Ryan Longfield prayed for us, for God to blow up our image of Him.
This box of donuts - this gift, this one gift - is as priceless as God's Gift to humanity.
A man who has been seasoned on the streets. One who combats theft, betrayal, neglect daily. He was still able to give willingly and accept graciously. He is able to walk the streets with joy, with -dignity, with hope. He continues to walk on and journey on, together with us. And I was able to witness that and to be part of it.
That - like Dick Hoyt's unconditional sacrifice and love for his son - is just this tiny, microscopic glimpse that mirrors God's love for us. How powerful, undescribable and beautiful His love is!
Thank You Spirit for stirring up joy in my heart. For allowing my tears to flow freely. For being our FATHER in Heaven. I am praying so hard for You. Longing so much for You.
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If beautiful moments like this can be orchestrated here on Earth, how wonderful life must be in Heaven! I can't wait to join you up there Ray, but until then, I've still got some Kingdom business to take care of down here.
I can only imagine what it will be like
When I walk by your side
I remember when they played this at your memorial service. I had been numb from pain, numb from any feelings, numb from sadness, regret when the testimonies were given. Numb to the point where I was angry and frustrated that I sat there at the side of the room expressionless and disconnected. I was afraid of even looking at you. Of seeing your face. I averted my eyes to the slideshow of all your pictures - some I had seen, most that I hadn't. Your childhood, days in Taiwan, days in MMA...
I was selfish, and I wanted to keep you here. My heart had hardened. I was incapable of mourning, incapable of feeling or reacting towards your departure into a better place.
I can only imagine what my eyes will see
When your face is before me
I can only imagine
But when this song played, it broke me down. They flowed freely. I wondered how much you had thought about this. Whether this would've even crossed your mind. Whether your thirst for life and its wonderful joys and intricacies had the power to mask over these questions. I wonder how you are spending your time now, playing with all the angels in bliss :). Sitting at His right hand. Being welcomed home by trumpets and singing. God smiling, pleased that you were so faithful to complete His work in so short a time - 19 years.
Surrounded by your glory, what will my heart feel
Will I dance for you Jesus, or in awe of you be still
When I stand in your presence, or to my knees will I fall
Will I sing hallelujah, will I be able to speak at all
I can only imagine
And this is why I am reminded of this song God. "Your Kingdom come, Your will be done". You've shown me a glimpse of Your Kingdom right here, right now. It's so tangible. And all flesh shall see the salvation of God - from Luke 3:6 Bible study last week.
And all I want to do Lord, is forever, forever worship you.
