After passing the man sitting in the opening of a small tent just off the road by the creek, I parked my car. When I first drove by, I saw a bent knee revealing blue jeans and caught part of a nose sticking up from inside.
Since I wasn’t sure who lived inside, I pondered who the person was and knew the man must be sweating and hot.
I carried dozens of cold Gatorades in my car, those intended for such moments. So I circled the block and returned down the road, pulling to the side. As I parked, another vehicle, an SUV, pulled up behind me.
Now I ignored the car, unsure who drove it, but I thought the driver had honked at me prior, up and around the street, when we passed each other.
As I walked toward the tent, the driver jumped from the SUV, and I looked back. I recognized a familiar face. I called, “Oh, my gosh. What in the world are you doing?”
We ran to each other, hugging, smiling, and hugging some more. The woman is now a counselor, taking great strides to improve her life after graduating from a drug rehab center years ago.
We first met when she was there when I held church services on Sunday mornings for the ladies. Her victory story is encouraging, and I love how she’s found redemption in the Lord.
Eventually, we said goodbye, and I moved to the man who leaned on his elbow, watching from the tent. He smiled. “You scared me to death.”
“Why was that?” “I heard someone holler, asking what I was doing?” “Oh, that was me, but I was talking to a friend who drove up about the same time.”
He laughed. “I thought it was a kid. Your voice isn’t normal when you yell.”
I laughed. “It does go higher when I get excited.” “I thought I was in trouble.” “No, sorry. Hey, I bet you’re thirsty.” “Gosh, yes. Very!” I gave the new friend several Gatorades, for now and later. And yes, I gave him a scripture card with a verse praising God.
He read it out loud. “Rejoice in the Lord, always.” I pointed to the verse. “I know circumstances can make it hard to remember to praise God on hot summer days or when someone yells. So this card is your reminder.”
“Thanks. So where are you headed?”
“Oh, I think I’ll scare a few more folks and give them a reason to praise God and give them something to drink.”
My friend sat up. “Well, they won’t be too scared once they see you.”
“I hope not. My screams are worse than my actual look, right?”
“Yeah, your voice is slightly different than some I know, but your face is okay.”
“Thanks. I think,” touching my face with my hand. So, friends who are reading this column, here’s some advice. A thirsty soul might be closer than the next curb. So watch the shrill in your voice. It can be quite startling to the unexpected person who doesn’t know you when you become a soprano in the wind.
(Oh wait, the above paragraph was primarily meant for me. But if you tend to shrill-talk sometimes, you can borrow my advice and tone it down, or at best, remember to announce your arrival.)
And yes, no matter how hot the day is or how many honks and detours you take, you can trust God to guide your steps. He will call you by name, and His voice won’t sound shrill. His love will feel like an embrace of love and kindness to your heart. So go, call out to someone with hope in Christ and offer them a drink to quench their weary soul!
