About eight years ago, a man asked the pastor if he could read a passage from the Psalms to the group under the bridge. He also asked the pastor to help him since his reading skills were poor. This pastor had counseled this man numerous times regarding his addiction and other sins. And the man appeared mentally challenged and had admitted to using meth.
What I love is that the man came to church that day. His steps brought him to that moment, as did ours. And we watched the man move to the microphone beside the pastor.
Worship songs ended. Birds chirped above in the rafters of the makeshift bridge ceiling. Eyes gazed up to the trailer where the pastor stood, where this man wobbled to share God’s Word.
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