I was headed to Texarkana, like I do a few times a week— running errands, whispering prayers, and letting stories find me. You’d think after all these trips I’d get used to the rhythm of the road, but the Lord has a funny way of turning routine routes into divine appointments.
Tucked beside me on the seat was supper—a burger and fries for a homeless friend I usually see hanging near the bridge. (I actually had burgers and fries for several folks) She’s kind of a landmark herself. Weathered, yes. But that tired smile and those hopeful eyes? They shine brighter than most streetlights.
Sure enough, I saw her walking across the bridge just ahead of me. My heart did a little leap. You know the kind. The “I see you, Lord” kind. But by the time I made it across and whipped my car around, she was gone.
