His Fingers Had Frozen Off (3 of 4)

Another Thursday night.  This time Red Sox fans and ticket and merchandise hawkers crowded the streets.  People were certainly more interested in enjoying themselves and the atmosphere surrounding the game then talking about spiritual things.   We ended up prayer walking one of the sidewalks of Kenmore Square occasionally talking to passerbys running into alot of apathy and disinterest.   I started to really wishing we had prayed together before meeting out on the street.

A couple homeless guys were out in front of Seven Eleven working the doors for change.  Seemed like everyone even us was trying to get something.  It can be frustrating when your intention is to give something (the good news of Jesus, a healing, and encounter with God), but it starts feeling like you are just trying to get people's attention like any other hawker.  This is why we need the Holy Spirit to open up doors.

In the end, I started talking to one of the homeless guys telling him why we were out here.  Surprisingly, he told me that he needed to "be delivered."  Before I had time to talk to him more about it another man emerged from the store.  I greeted him asking him for his name, whoops mistake (always introduce yourself first!).  He responded rebuking me and telling me to smile.  Haha. Not the reaction I was prepared for.  Here I was trying to share Jesus, and I wasn't evening feeling any joy. 

Convicted I continued to talk to the man when I suddenly realized I had met him before when he was homeless in Copley Square.  I remembered his story of how his hand and 4 fingers were so badly frost bitten one night as he slept in a stupor on the roof of a building that they had to be removed.  This man had a lot of anger towards God, and in a way he had a reason to be.  We struggled to communicate God's love for him.  Finally, a breakthrough came when God gave me a scripture verse for him and told me to offer him some money.  As I did, he suddenly opened up.  He told me how he wanted my help in helping him be reconciled to his 80 year old dad.  I promised to meet him next Tuesday for lunch.

I went away thinking about the pain and the anger that exists on the streets.  On Tuesday, I spent over an hour looking for Sonny; I couldn't find him.  But, God knows his story better than me.  As I prayed for Sonny, it really moved me - those who sow in tears will reap in joy...  Why don't you pray for Sonny too?

Tomorrow: "A Bouncer & A Tatooed Foot"