The One

Do you believe in such a thing as “the one?” It’s been a polarizing conversation among many circles with various stances on the far right and left of the debate. What if I told you that Jesus believed in the one? With Valentine’s Day just behind us, many are holding emphatically to belief and disbelief of such a claim. My thought pendulum has swung to both sides, but I think I finally settled on one. Allow me to show you why I now believe in the one too.

Plans. I have repeatedly come to find that I cannot rely on my plan going as planned. This particular Thursday happened to be no different. My stylist had an unforeseen situation that created a hair situation for me. I was already pushing it – on week seven of no wash and retwist, and I wasn’t sure I could bear to go another. Frantically, my eyes searched StyleSeat for someone available in just an hour or so with good reviews and prices. I found her and tried calling to no avail before I was ushered back for my dentist appointment.

Once finished with another sigh of relief because I’d need no dental work, I decided to head to the shop to find out if the stylist was available. Confirming her arrival in an hour, I headed out to pull some lunch together. When I arrived at a gas station, an older man was sitting on the ground right in front of where I had parked Sam (that’s my ride). He glanced up at me as I peered back at him through my window. I knew we’d be having a conversation.

His name was Rodney - a Navy vet. I didn’t discover these details until a little into our conversation when he handed me his VA card. My dad is a naval veteran. I thought about how this man could be my dad and the difference in detours that led to him being homeless. We talked for a while about his life and how he just wanted to see Jesus.

Mr. Rodney eventually asked me if I would get him a burger. I told him I would. I remember being moved with compassion for him and just wanting him to see Jesus too. I asked if I could pray for him and sat down beside him. I put my arm around him and snuggled close as I began to speak. He wept – acknowledging that God had sent an angel to see and care for him. A woman had approached right before I began to pray, and I asked her if she would wait for me to respond until I finished. She waited and had asked if I could buy her something to eat too. Mr. Rodney had a burger that someone else must have given him. One he could have kept for himself to eat now or later, but he gave it to her. He said that I was getting him something to eat.

I had not left to get him this burger I had promised, yet he believed that provision was coming. He didn’t need to hold onto what he had in reserve because He was trusting that God would provide more when his need was once again unmet. I admired his generosity and faith. And realized then, and even more now that I’m typing these words, that even if he had not yet seen Jesus, Jesus had seen him.

Just a couple of weeks after this encounter, my coworkers and I had a meeting with a partner organization. The director had mentioned that she served the homeless through her previous employment. That piqued my interest, so I asked her about it. I wanted to know how to best serve someone in that position, mainly when to refer them for various supports such as therapy. She responded differently than I had expected. She informed me of practical items to have on hand and then mentioned the most important thing I could give – my sight. Often, she said, the homeless have said they feel unseen. That people don’t even look at them as they pass by, and it makes them feel less than human. I realized even more why Mr. Rodney had a flood of tears as I held and prayed for him. I had seen him. God had seen him.

While visiting a girlfriend this past December, I happened to catch a short segment of a sermon on tv. The pastor shared Jesus’ story about the good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37) and had asked the question: “Which of the three loved the Lord his God with all his heart, soul, mind, and strength by loving a stranger as himself?” The obvious answer was the Samaritan. But there was something more profound He shared next in the unfolding of his message.

He talked about how the good Samaritan had loved this man but what that love didn’t entail. He said that though the man begged him to stay with him longer, the Samaritan instead ensured the man had enough provision for his immediate need as he continued to the business he had initially set out to accomplish. The pastor noted that there were probably other people on the side of the road who needed care, but this man had stopped for this one.

It reminded me of the time I decided to start a “trunk ministry.” Let me explain. Over a couple of weeks, I remember seeing homeless person after homeless person. I would stop, speak with them, and give what I had to offer at that moment. After so many encounters, I decided I’d be prepared every time by having premade packages. I set out to buy food and care items and created a brochure with various resources. After assembling and packing everything in my trunk, I was ready. And do you know what happened? Nothing. After having days and weeks of encounters, I saw no homeless persons on my travels.

Puzzled, I asked God what was going on. He simply replied, “I didn’t tell you to do that.” I can’t tell you how alarmed my spirit became when I had around that time read Matthew 25:31-40 and felt that I needed to do everything on that list – refresh the thirsty, invite the stranger, clothe the naked, care for the sick, and visit the imprisoned. My compassion coupled with this sense of duty (and fear), had led me to pursue a call God had not given me. To try to fight every battle and provide for every need. But God would have a different specific purpose in mind for me. He just wanted me to trust Him as He unveiled it to me. He just wanted me to trust He’d give me His prompting to notice the one on my path to get there.

Who’s the one on your path? Ask God to help you see them, to know what to give, and to know when you have fulfilled your role in their life and must be getting on down the road.