I drove away from the parking area by the shelter, and a homeless man jogged behind my car, his arms waving for me to stop. I hit the brake, pulled to the side of the road, and called to him through the opened window on the passenger side. “Hi, so you’re chasing me?”
“Yes, I need to ask you something. I saw you had some backpacks. I hoped you had a gray one left. See, I’ve got a job and will be riding the bus. I sure could use one. I’ll be buying one soon if not, but I thought I’d ask.”
After turning off the engine, I stepped out of my car and popped my trunk. “I think I have a couple left. Let’s check.”
Several friends came up, and one introduced the chasing- jogging friend, who smiled like it was his birthday. He talked faster than his feet could run too. “I was going to buy one with the bit of money I have, but I saw the others with their bags, and you were leaving. I’m sorry I ran after you. But I had to check.”
His rattling continued, and I handed him a gray backpack he held close to his chest. He thanked me and started to rush off, but then my rattling took over. I yelled, “Wait, I have some scripture cards and need to ask you something. Are you a follower of Christ? Do you purpose to honor God in your day?”
The man returned and sat on the bumper of my opened SUV hatch, and three other men hovered nearby, listening in as we chatted.
The man answered, “I know Jesus. My granny took me to church all my life, and I heard about Jesus from the moment she got up, and it lasted all day until she tucked me into bed. When I got grown, life hit hard, and she passed on, but I’ll always remember her taking me to church.”
As we all listened to our friend talk, I realized we were having a bit of church on the side of the road, and I interrupted, adding a few comments. “Don’t you love how God saw you today and sent the very backpack you wanted in the exact color you were hoping for?”
The man clutched his bag. “Mostly, I love that Jesus saved me.”
He turned to his fellow friends. “Hey guys, Jesus died for us. I learned a few things from my granny: He changes us if we believe in Christ. He saves us. And we’re different when we love Jesus back.”
I took in his courage as he shared his faith with his friends—as I soaked up his love for Christ. It’s as if I held an invisible backpack and filled my heart with this man’s joy in knowing Jesus as His Savior.
And to think, to the outsider, it might have seemed odd for a man to chase me down the road—to stop my car—to sit on my bumper. But for those of us who had church on the side of the street—it was a glorious time of basking in our love for Christ. And in our love for sharing our faith!
By the way, I handed my friend the last backpack from my car as I only had one left since I gave him the gray one. “Pass this on to someone who needs it. And do share Christ, if you will.”
“No need to worry. I am holding onto my granny’s teaching—to trust God before I meet each day. To trust God before I go to sleep. And to trust God always, in the in-between. I’ll make sure someone gets this backpack. Thank you so much!”
Friends, pass along the backpack of love and hope today. It’s as easy as stopping for the one you see in your rearview mirror.
