The man on the street held up the cardboard sign, waving it at the red light. I noticed from quite a distance back that the tall man was young enough to be my son—and seconds later, he launched the sign higher into the sky as more cars approached the intersection.
As I inched closer in my car, I hoped to see his face outside my window, and I found myself digging for a gift card so he could get a meal. I also grabbed not one but two verses from my little scripture card collections.
I rolled my window down, pulling ahead, as the light changed to green. One lone car sat behind me, so I didn’t hold the line too much. Just the one car, and he didn’t honk or get too close. It’s as if he waited for me to do my thing. Maybe the driver was as nosey as me. I recognized the man with the sign when he glanced my way, and I rolled down my window. I called to B. “Hey you! It’s me, Ms. Pam. Remember, God does love you!” He muttered, maybe, caught in his world of not-doing- so-good, and I didn’t understand what he said when he spoke, but the light turned green, and I had to move along.
The good news is, B. had taken the scripture cards and the gift card and held them close to his face flipping through the items—yes, I watched in my rearview mirror.
Then as I drove over the top of the bridge, still staring back into my mirror, and almost in slow motion, I caught B.’s smile, and he dropped the cardboard sign and waved.
His countenance changed and even sparkled in the shadows of the lowering sun—and my eyes filled with tears.
A moment of clarity seemed to rise—and I’m unsure if he knew me or was simply thrilled he’d gotten a Mc-Donald’s card. But either way, he was thankful!
During the next few miles, I prayed aloud in the car (so I’d pay attention) for this broken young man. For you see, this boy is my friend’s son. I know him. He knows me. And my heart breaks for him! And for his mother! And his grandmother!
And yet, I know, the very moment I see someone and remember they are a real person who needs a real God—that I’m right where I need to be, love that person, show kindness, and remind them that they have hope in Christ.
Just imagine if every broken person we see—reminded us of our sons and daughters—then we might be more prone to love them as Jesus has loved us.
But we might quickly say, “But oh, they struggle.” And then, I might quickly say, “But oh, don’t you know, I struggle, too.”
So shake off your struggles and ease someone’s sadness, loneliness, or cardboard days. Let them know they matter. And yes, when you share Jesus, your eyes will shine, your heart will burst with joy, and hope will slip into your day at the intersection of life. So come on, be the one who is a sign of hope for someone’s heart! They could be your child!
