I Helped

We see them all the time, though we often ignore them. People in need. Reaching out for help. They're all around us. And from time to time we are them. More than likely if you're reading this you have a computer or a smart phone and you're not in need of much, and obviously as I am the one writing this I am in the same boat.

I don't know how many homeless people I've turned from, how many stalled cars I've frowned at, how many street-side donations groups I've rolled my window up on. Yet I claim that my greatest role model was a man who went out of his way on countless occasions to help those who were in need inside and out. I believe Jesus would not have been the type of guy drive swiftly passed a stalled car on the street and not offer to help get it off the road or call for assistance. It really shows that I am trying really hard to follow in his footsteps (I hope you detect the sarcasm). The truth is I don't go above and beyond to help my fellow man often enough. But something really hit me yesterday and I don't know how.

As I was driving to visit my friend Gabe who was house-sitting in Fort Worth I drove over to the Central Market off Hulen to get some groceries before heading over. At the intersection of the access road and Hulen I saw a man who was standing on the side of the road holding a small cardboard sign.

The sign read, "Homeless..." and continued, but I didn't read any further. Instantly I was turned off to the idea of helping him. I locked my doors as I thought, "I can't give him money! He will just spend it on drugs or alcohol. What he needs is a job! And I don't have an extra one of those to give away right now. Plus, I don't even have any cash on me!" Haven't we all thought like this at one time or another?

I continued to Central Market, grabbed what I needed and went to the check-out. As I swiped my card and went through the payment prompts I came across the button I so often check "No" on.

"Cash back?"

Never had the button meant so much to me. That's an option for me. I am blessed that I can walk into a store, buy something, then be able to say, "Hey go ahead and grab ten bucks out of there for me!"

So that is exactly what I did. What was I going to do with this ten dollars? What would it provide me in the long run? Another couple burgers? A fro-yo date for Maddie and I? I was reminded at the fact that none of what I have is really mine, nor does it really matter.

I hopped back in my car and caught up with the young homeless man who was now walking down the street. I got out of my car and called him over to me.

He couldn't have been too much older than me. Perhaps he had come to Fort Worth for college and found trouble in his life. He was slightly taller than me, and painfully thin. His face burnt from the sun, in that splotchy way that looks as if it had burned on new freshly peeled skin. He looked around thinking I was talking to someone else. I asked if he needed some help, if he'd like a little cash, to which he nodded and said yes. I held out my meager offering, which he was more than grateful for. He asked me, "Why are you being so nice to me?"

I said, "I saw you were in need. I wanted to help."

He said thank you and we went our separate ways. When I got back in my car I saw my Bible in the seat next to me (God has subtle ways of waking us up to what is truly important). I quickly got back out of my car and called him back to me. I told him the real reason I wanted to help. It is the love of Christ that pushes me to give, and I should give more. I took a moment to pray for him. I asked, "what's your name?"

He said, "Jeff." Not "homeless man with a sign." Not "drug addict looking for his next fix."

Just Jeff. A guy with a name and a face who was in need.

I prayed for him and encouraged him as best I knew how, then I left. I felt something. I was sad. That I have wasted years of my life and money in my bank account on things that have no eternal significance whatsoever. But that day I helped. I helped something. I helped in His name. I need to help more.