The Day I Met Daniel

 It was an unusually cold day for the month of May.  Spring had arrived
 and everything was alive  with color. But a cold front from the north
 had brought winter's chill back to Indiana.  I sat with two friends in the
 picture window of a quaint restaurant just off the corner of the town
square.

 The  food and the company were both especially good that day.  As we
 talked, my  attention was drawn outside, across the street. There,
 walking into town, was a man who appeared to be carrying all his worldly
 goods on his back. He was carrying a well-worn sign that read,

 "I will work for food."
 

 My heart sank. I brought him to the attention of my friends and  noticed
 that others around us had stopped eating to focus on him. Heads moved
 in a mixture of sadness and disbelief. We continued with our meal, but
 his  image  lingered in my mind.  We finished our meal and went our
separate
 ways.   I had errands to do and quickly set out to accomplish them.  I
 glanced toward the town square, looking somewhat half-heartedly for the
 strange visitor. I was fearful, knowing that seeing him again would call
 for some response. I drove through town and saw nothing of him. I made
 some purchases at a store and got back in my car. Deep within me, the
 Spirit of God kept speaking to me:  "Don't go back to the office until
 you've at least driven once more around the square."   And so, with some
 hesitancy, I  headed back into town. As I turned the square's third corner,
 I saw him.

 He was standing on the steps of the stone-front church, going through
 his sack. I  stopped and looked, feeling both compelled to speak to him,
yet
 wanting to drive on. The empty parking space on the corner seemed to be  a
 sign from God: an invitation to park.  I pulled in, got out and approached
 the town's newest visitor.

 "Looking for the pastor?" I asked.

 "Not really," he replied. "Just resting."
 "Have you eaten today?"
 "Oh, I ate something early this morning."
 "Would you like to have lunch with me?"
 "Do you have some work I could do for you?"
 "No work," I replied. "I commute here to work from the city, but I would
 like to take you to lunch."
 "Sure," he replied with a smile. As he began to gather his things, I asked
 some surface questions.

  "Where you headed?"
  "St. Louis."
  "Where you from?"
  "Oh, all over; mostly Florida."
  "How long you been walking?"
  "Fourteen years," came the reply.
  I knew I had met someone unusual. We sat across from each other in the
 same restaurant I had left only minutes earlier. His hair was long and
 straight, and he had a neatly trimmed dark beard. His skin was deeply
 tanned, and his face was weathered slightly beyond his 38 years.
 His eyes  were dark yet clear, and he spoke with an eloquence and
 articulation that was startling. He removed his jacket to reveal a
 bright red T-shirt  that said, "Jesus is The Never Ending Story."
 Then Daniel's story began to unfold. He had seen rough times early in
 life.  He'd made some wrong choices and reaped the consequences.
 Fourteen years earlier, while backpacking across the country, he had
 stopped on the beach in Daytona. He tried to hire on with some men who
 were putting up a large tent and some equipment. A concert, he thought.
 He was hired, but the tent would not house a concert but revival services,
 and in those services he saw life more clearly. He gave his life over to
 God.

 "Nothing's been the same since," he said. "I felt the Lord telling me to
 keep walking, and so I did, some 14 years now."
 "Ever think of stopping?"  I asked.
 "Oh, once in a while, when it seems to get the best of me. But God has
 given me this calling. I give out Bibles. That's what's in my sack. I work
 to buy food and Bibles, and I give them out when His Spirit leads."
 I sat amazed. My homeless friend was not homeless. He was on a mission and
 lived this way by choice. The question burned inside for a moment and then
I
 asked:

 "What's it like?"
 "What?"
 "To walk into a town carrying all your things on your back and to show your
 sign?"

 "Oh, it was humiliating at first. People would stare and make comments.
 Once someone tossed a piece of half-eaten bread and made a gesture that
 certainly didn't make me feel welcome. But then it became humbling to
 realize that God was using me to touch lives and change people's
 concepts of other folks like me."
 My concept was changing too. We finished our dessert and gathered his
things.

 Just outside the door he paused. He turned to me and said, "Come, ye
blessed
 of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of
the world:
 For I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me
drink: I
 was a stranger, and ye took me in: Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick,
and ye
 visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me."

 I felt as if we were on holy ground.  "Could you use another Bible?" I
asked.
 He said he preferred a certain translation. It traveled well and was not
 too heavy. It was also his personal favorite. "I've read through it 14
 times," he said.  "I'm not sure we've got one of those, but let's stop by
our
 church and see."

 I  was able to find my new friend a Bible that would do well, and he seemed
 very grateful.

 "Where you headed from here?" I asked.
 "Well, I found this little map on the back of this amusement park coupon."
 "Are you hoping to hire on there for a while?"

 "No, I just figure I should go there. I figure someone under that star
 right there needs a Bible, so that's where I'm going next."  He smiled, and
 the warmth of his spirit radiated the sincerity of his mission.

 I drove him back to the town square where we'd met two hours earlier, and
 as we drove, it started raining. We parked and unloaded his things.

 "Would you sign my autograph book?" he asked. "I like to keep messages from
 folks I meet.
 I wrote in his little book that his commitment to his calling had touched
 my life.  I encouraged him to stay strong. And I left him with a verse of
 scripture, Jeremiah 29:11  "For I know the thoughts that I think toward
you,"
 saith the LORD, "thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an
expected end."

 "Thanks, man," he said.  "I know we just met and we're really just
strangers, but
 I love you."
 "I know," I said. "I love you, too."
 "The Lord is good."
 "Yes.  He is."

 "How long has it been since someone hugged you?" I asked.
 "A long time," he replied. And so on the busy street corner in the
 drizzling rain, my new friend and I  embraced, and I felt deep inside that
I
 had been changed. He put his things on his back, smiled his winning smile
and
 said, "See you in the New Jerusalem." "I'll be there!" was my reply.

 He began his journey again. He headed away with his sign dangling from his
 bedroll and pack of Bibles.  He stopped, turned and said, "When you see
something
 that makes you think of me, will you pray for me?"
 "You bet," I shouted back. "God bless."
 "God bless." And that was the last I saw of him. Late that evening as I
 left my office, the wind blew strong. The cold front had settled hard
 upon the town. I  bundled up and hurried to my car.  As I sat back and
 reached for the emergency brake, I saw them-a pair of well-worn brown work
 gloves neatly laid over the length of the handle. I picked them up and
thought
 of my friend and wondered if his hands would stay warm that night without
 them.

 I remembered his words: "If you see something that makes you think of me,
 will you pray for me?"  Today his gloves lie on my desk in my office.  They
 help me  to see the  world and its people in a new way, and they help me
 remember those two hours with my unique friend and to pray for his
 ministry.

 "See you in the New Jerusalem," he said. Yes Daniel, I know I will.

  Addendum...
  James 2:1-5  My brethren, have not the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ, the
  Lord of glory, with respect of persons.  For if there come unto your
assembly
  a man with a gold ring, in goodly apparel, and there come in also a poor
man
  in vile raiment; And ye have respect to him that weareth the gay clothing,
and
  say unto him, Sit thou here in a good place; and say to the poor, Stand
thou there,
  or sit here under my footstool: Are ye not then partial in yourselves, and
are
  become judges of evil thoughts?  Hearken, my beloved brethren, Hath not
God chosen
  the poor of this world rich in faith, and heirs of the kingdom which he
hath promised
  to them that love him?

author unknown
 

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