I'm loathing the fact that I'm beginning this entry with such a well-known saying, but here it goes: "Things happen when you least expect it." This morning was your typical mundane start to an extended weekend - props to Dr. Martin Luther "The King", Jr. for the extra day off. There's an underlying guilt of sorts for having a day off and getting paid for it. But trust me, the guilt lasts for all of three seconds, tops. A day off these days pretty much means that there's a rendezvous at the racquetball arena with my colleague, mentor, elder, and fellow brother Bruce. It's almost set in stone that we'll get together and hit this little green ball around to which all bounciness is displayed. Aside from all of the ricocheting, running, insane amount of sweating, and witty banter on and off the court, there's good fellowship. This game had an abbreviated stay in my life during one summer in my early teens; it has since been on hiatus for about 15 years and abruptly comes rushing back to me. It has been a privilege re-learning the game under Bruce's tutelage. His fiery competitive nature has helped me with the exorcising of some internal demons. Right-o, not so much actually, but it sounds kind of intense doesn't it? Almost makes you want to watch these two guys, who happen to be 30 some odd years apart, duke it out in an enclosed space of 20' wide x 40' long x 20' high right? Yeah, I'm not so much the salesman; so cut me some slack people. In anycase, racquetball is good; racquetball is wise.
Since I'm taking Elementary Chinese II this semester, a cornucopia of quizzes, tests, reading and writing assignments, and the sheer cramming of my brain is upon me. Furthermore, a handful of oral presentation dialogues have to be performed. After my racquetball outing, I met with a fellow student to go over what we'll be conversing about in class. It has to do with shopping for clothes, colors, and sizes. Why am I taking these classes again? Oh right, to learn how to read and write this native language of mine. How stout of me to take on such a grandiose task. A little sidebar here: Is sarcasm by any chance a leading killer in the United States? If so, I'm definitely in the running for that mysterious and random kind of death. OK, so taking these classes isn't so glamorous...nor is it of any assistance to me saving money for bigger and better things (for the moment). But behind this curtain of uncertainty lies an investment, which will prove to be invaluable some day, and will unexpectedly enrich my life at the right moment. Sidebar over: The meeting went well and I will soon get the opportunity to showcase my ghetto salesperson skills in this little dialogue we created. How fun.
Prior to the little meeting, I made an impromptu phone call to Erica Lynn to see if she maybe wanted to do something after I got done with my Chinese stuff. I was in the area, so I figured I'd call. She said to call her after I was done with the meeting and that perhaps she would be free by then. Well the meeting didn't go as long as I anticipated, so I thought I'd kill some time before ringing her again. I was close to where Howard and I used to live, so I figured I'd stop by San Luis Mission Park. I visited there with normality when we lived off Ocala Road to have my quiet times, and to be part of God's canvas of this amazing portrait of colors and serenity. People often say how "hole-in-a-wall" places are the best restaurants to eat at. I consider this park a "hole-in-a-wall" for God's soul food. Some amazing things have occurred there for my spiritual walk, and God always blesses me abundantly when I meet Him there. So back to the story: On my way to the Park, I reluctantly stopped by the Autozone store to get that "kid in a candy store" feeling. Hank with credit card entering an auto parts store = job security for those folks at Discover. Unfortunately for Discover, common sense won out this time and they didn't get a cent. MasterCard on the other hand did (this will be cleared up - read on). Enter God's divine appointment...
So I'm walking out to my car after departing Autozone with no parts or anything - a tragedy in and of itself. My car was parked about 300 Asians away from the Crystal River Seafood place on Tennessee - so that equals out to about what, maybe 39 feet or so? OK, I'm kidding - really I'm not. Anyways, a man who I'm presuming to be in his 40s or 50s approaches me. His stature was of much more girth than me - I suppose the term "big-boned" is apropos here. "How are you doing sir," he says. "I'm wondering if you could offer me some money so I could go eat. I'm really starving here." My brain goes to DEFCON 1 mode. The last time I helped someone who approached me in public like this, I winded up at the outer rims of Frenchtown assisting this dude's drug habit. Granted, it was around midnight and I was cornered, but I most certainly fell victim to a well-concocted story of a person needing a ride to the mall so he could pick up money for his baby, who was in need medicine. Dumb Hank - I could've been arrested that night for being part of a drug deal since at that time TPD was really cracking down on drug sales in that area. Not to mention the heightened levels of being shot at when that dude got in my car. I guess being nice requires common sense at times. The latter was lacking that night of course; I felt bad and wanted to help. Back to the story at-hand: So many thoughts are going through my head at this point. What do I tell the dude? How do I help him? There's got to be a way I can witness to him instead of turning him away. I kindly told him, "Well sir, there's a Subway right down there. Why don't we walk down there together and I'll buy you something to eat." He replies, "Oh, thank you sooo much sir. That is sooo nice of you." My mind quickly refocuses now and I try to think of an abbreviated plan as to what I'll do when we get into Subway and what we can converse about. I asked him where he was from, if he had any family here, how long he had been in Tallahassee, and some other "icebreaker" questions. By this time, he had told me his name, but I can't quite recall it for this entry (my apologies), so I will refer to him as Jared, since that is the only name I can associate with Subway. He proceeds to tell me that his family lives in South Carolina, that he's been in Tallahassee for six years, and that his feet hurt very badly. During our short trek to Subway, it was clearly evident that his walk was hindered by some discomfort.
As we got in line to order the food, I told him to order anything he wanted. "Make sure you get a footlong at least; and I'll get you some chips and a drink. Is that ok?" He accepted the offer without hesitation, yet being very grateful. I felt sad for Jared. You could tell by his face that he was so tired, but at the same time he was trying really hard to figure out what he wanted to eat. He seemed to have been lost as to what to choose. I had given him "free reign" to get anything so I'm sure he wanted to get something really good to eat. He told the "Subway Sandwich Artist" that he would like a toasted "Steak and Cheese" melt. After giving his request, he looked back at me; a smile derived from trepidation - it almost seemed like he wanted affirmation that his selection was ok with me. I almost broke into tears at that point. Seeing a person who was so in need of something I take for granted every single day pummeled any inkling of selfish acts. This man was genuinely in need of nourishment; in attempts to not judge him, I wondered for a few moments if spiritual nourishment was more of what he needed. I was doing my best to get him some physical sustenance (not much in the grand scheme of things I know), but I wanted to make sure he knew that my actions were the effects of serving my God.
After the food was paid for (with the MasterCard), I made sure he sat down to rest and told him to enjoy the food. He asked if he could have $1.25 for a bus ride later on. I didn't fulfill this request in fear of him using the money for booz (I thought I had smelled some alcohol in his breath and clothes). He said it was perfectly fine and that he was very appreciative of the food and for the help I had offered him already. Before I left him to enjoy his feast, I told him that I was a member of First Christian Church right up the road. "You can't miss it sir. It's the big white building. If you ever need anything, please go there and someone will help you out." I gave him a pat on the back, wished him well, told him to take care, and was on my way back to the car. The walk back seemed like an eternity. I felt like patting myself on the back for a selfless act. But I quickly re-evaluated things and was so burdened by the possible motives as to why I did what I did. Before overthinking things too much, I wanted to drive to San Luis to meet with God about all that had transpired. I can't quite describe into words as to the emotions that churned in me as I prayed to God. I thanked Him for my impromptu call to Erica Lynn and my stop at Autozone; for without those two occurrences, the divine appointment with Jared would not have occurred.
I saw such a small glimpse of what God tells us in His word about Him coming to Earth to serve and not to be served (Mark 10: 45). This opportunity to witness to Jared was so incredibly awesome - even if it was a small window, I truly felt so blessed to have been able to let him know that I was a child of God's, and that his future hunger pains could be met through the Lord. I could theorize so many things as to how things transpired; I could think of so many things I could've done differently (i.e. prayed with Jared for his food before I left, shared more about Jesus and the real reason I was being kind to him and buying him food); maybe even given him a ride to where he needed to go after he ate. The thing of it is, I've realized since leaving Jared, that in life maybe it's really not about doing all these elaborate things to glorify God and His Kingdom. I simply want to be convicted deep into the core of my heart to serve Him without any complications from a life that so often entangles useless and mindless selfish pursuits. Prayerfully, I'm at the cusp of grasping the love that Jesus had for the people He served and that out of His love came the abundance of grace and mercy to which saves me from the plummeting fall into this world.
So as I close this entry, I pray for Jared's life - that the seed, property of my Lord Jesus, will be deeply rooted and will help him stand firm one day in God's field. I also have to report that I did finally call Erica Lynn. We had a grand ole' time drinking some delicious beverages from Sonic (Cherry Limeade and Strawberry-Banana Smoothie) and I left my masculinity at the door of Joann Fabrics as we perused through the many cool items they offered and some magazines with some very interesting outfits (perhaps I should also pray for Erica Lynn for having to experience Joann's with an individual who is totally aloof to the fabric world). There are most definitely some styles out there these days that would make the Fashion Police pull over many people for some gaudy infractions. Sorry for the long entry folks. Be free and be blessed today...
So is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it. You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands. (Isaiah 55: 11-12)
~KH
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