Piled into the old, gray, mostly reliable church van, we drove around town, brown bags of food on our laps, looking for someone down and out. We found two sitting at that curb there, one resting on a bench in front of a store. “There’s one!” someone would cry out and the one driving would pull over, turn around or pull into the lot and we’d hop out to give food, talk for a moment, and offer a prayer. We like to ask their name, because somehow being known by name might help them feel more like they matter and aren’t alone. God sees them and so do we.
My friends know several of these folks from seeing them month by month. This month we were serving pulled pork and there was one man in particular who loved that. We were determined to keep looking until we found him. He wasn’t in his usual place, but driving down a narrow alley we found a man sleeping on a mattress back in a shady corner and it turned out to be him!
As our little search party drove around, it struck me that the Church, God’s people, should be this intentional in finding the lost people around us, those who are hungry in their souls. We have a feast of hope and love that’s been given to us, like a brown bag of food sitting on our lap, needing to be served to someone.
I want God to open my eyes today to see hearts needing to be encouraged, heard, made to feel less alone, loved.
I want to hear Him tell me, “there’s one!”