The unannounced christma.., p.17
The Unannounced Christmas Visitor, page 17
Resting in the promises, John thought. Those comforting words again.
Tiwanna saw Suzie yawning and nudged Leroy. “Gather round, y’all, so we can pray. Some of us need to sleep.”
Those who were interested formed a circle and held hands. “Father God, thanks for blessing us with another precious 24 hours of life. My hope is that our thoughts, actions and deeds were pleasing in Your sight. I ask a special blessing on everyone You sent to feed and encourage us today, including John.
“Please protect their families and meet their needs this Christmas season. For those who don’t belong to You, may they come to learn the true meaning of Christmas this year. Bless your homeless servants with a peaceful night’s sleep, in Jesus’ name we pray, Amen!”
“Amen!”
Laying on his belly, hands under his chin resting on elbows, John observed in stunned silence as two men lifted Suzie out of her wheelchair, gently placing her onto a sleeping bag already laid out for her.
Before zipping it up, like two nurses caring for a patient, they made sure the handicapped woman was completely bundled up from head to toe.
“Hope your neck feels better in the morning,” one of them said to her.
“Thank you, William.” Then to John, she said, “Thanks again for the pizza. It was a tasty Christmas treat.”
“You’re welcome, Suzie,” John replied.
“Thanks for the pizza, John,” Wanda said, rolling onto her side.
“Yeah, thanks for the pizza,” someone else yelled.
Then another.
Then another.
After a few moments of complete silence, John finally whispered in the darkness, “What time do you think it is?”
“Probably close to midnight,” Pedro replied, in a whisper.
John reached into his pants pocket for his cell phone and turned it on. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the bright luminescent light. “12:03 a.m. to be exact. Let me be the first to say Merry Christmas Eve, guys.”
“Same to you, John.”
Tiwanna started singing Silent Night. Leroy and Pedro quickly joined in. The thunderous bass in Leroy’s voice rocked the frigid night air.
John listened and star-gazed. His heart was bursting inside his chest like never before. How ironic that it took seeing his two kids selfless generosity, followed by spending time at a humble homeless community, of all places, to finally see true Christian love at work.
First to hear Leroy praying for those who had warm homes to live in, when he had no place to lay his head; that was touching enough. Then the way the two men helped Suzie out of her wheelchair into her sleeping bag.
These things convicted John deep inside and caused him to pause and examine his own life. Is this the work of the Holy Spirit?
Whether it was or not, one thing was undeniable: John Jensen never felt more honored to be at any other place, than right here right now.
If it’s true that those who have nothing usually end up giving the most, John now understood that comment completely. All he did was bring the pizza. They provided everything else. The $143.79 he spent was well worth the privilege of being in such distinguished company. Go figure!
The second time through the song, John joined in the singing as many slowly dozed off.
24
AFTER MANY HAD SETTLED in for the night, in a near whisper Leroy said, “Shouldn’t you be heading home? After all, it’s Christmas Eve.”
“If it’s okay with you, I’d like to spend the night here.” John’s head was resting on his hands like two gloved bony pillows.
“Seriously?” Tiwanna was astonished by what she’d just heard. She turned to face John. The two were sandwiched in between Pedro and Leroy. Pedro was on Tiwanna’s left. Leroy was on John’s right.
“I confess my reason for coming at this late hour was purely selfish.”
“In what way, John?” Tiwanna asked quizzically.
“I wanted to have you all to myself.”
Tiwanna’s thick lips curled into an easy smile, and the few teeth she still had in her mouth were illuminated by the three lanterns. “That’s the nicest thing an outsider has said at this place in a very long time. Your words tasted better in my mouth than even the pizza.”
Leroy and Pedro remained silent, but the softened expressions on their faces spoke volumes. Both men were greatly warmed by what they’d just heard.
“It’s the truth. Besides, this is the most peace I’ve felt in too long to remember,” John said softly, not wanting to wake anyone, especially Suzie.
“Don’t get too used to it. This isn’t the norm,” said Pedro, considering just how ridiculous, yet beautiful, it was that a man with a warm bed and home chose to sleep at the frigid cold park with them this night. “Now that Enoch’s gone, I’m reminded again that life on the streets is always difficult and seldom peaceful. What you feel now could evaporate at any moment. It wouldn’t take much for this place to be filled with chaos again.”
“Yeah,” Leroy said, “Life on the street is always dangerous. It’s unedited, uncensored and quite raw. And there’s never a shortage of thieves and hustlers. We always need to be on the constant lookout.”
“True that,” Tiwanna replied.
John’s eyes widened in panic; his face crumbled in anguish.
Leroy went on, “You should have seen this place before Enoch arrived. It was like a war zone. Drug dealers and hustlers as far as the eye could see; bullets whizzing by our heads at any given time.”
“I remember hearing about it on the news.”
“Believe me, John, TV reporters and cameras do no justice. To see people tearing wildly at each other, blood being spilled in front of your eyes is terrifying to witness. Unlike the fistfights you see in the movies where everyone cheers, when fights break out here, people tremble with fear. Especially women. As a one-time participant myself, I can tell you it’s nothing you ever want to encounter.”
“Sounds scary,” John said. He was never more thankful for the current peace at the park.
“And impossible to get used to. But when you’re homeless, where can you go to escape it?” Tiwanna said. “You may be homeless for one night, John, but you’re not really homeless. You can get in your car and drive back to your warm house any time you want to. Most of us living on the streets don’t have that luxury.”
“Hmm, just when I was starting to feel like a rugged wilderness man! Gee thanks, Tiwanna!”
Tiwanna giggled. “Truth is, we’re not even supposed to sleep in the park. Soon after Enoch came, the cops stopped giving us a hard time. They even designated this small area just for us. As long as we maintain the peace and quiet and clean up after ourselves and don’t panhandle on park grounds, they usually leave us alone.”
She frowned. “Now that he’s gone, I pray each night the police won’t change their minds and make us leave in the middle of the night.”
“Where would you sleep if that happens?”
“You name it, in the woods, under bridges, in vacant garages and trailers. If we’re lucky, we get to squat in old warehouses, dilapidated homes, or motels for a night or two before moving on.
“Wanda and I once slept in a closed-down car wash for nearly a month, before we got trespassed. Wasn’t so bad except for the rats and the constant noise from the breeze pressing through the cracks.”
“A car wash, huh?” John said more to himself than to Tiwanna.
“Yeah, and every time we’re forced to relocate, there’s always the chance of being mugged by someone or even worse. That’s why most homeless people tend to cling to the places where they settle.
“Sometimes I’m happy having nothing. Difficult sleeping knowing someone could steal my stuff at any time. Like brother Leroy said, there will never be a shortage of thieves and hustlers living on the streets.”
“Wasn’t there a murder here last year?” John asked.
“Yeah. Friend of mine,” Leroy said, with a deep sigh. “Shot and killed by a rival drug dealer. We were partners in crime.” Noticing John’s “You used to be a drug dealer?” expression, Leroy said, “One advantage to living on the streets is that we always keep it real. Unlike the rest of society, we have nothing to hide. No secrets. There’s something freeing about always being honest. That’s how we sleep at night.”
“Sorry. Just hard for me to imagine you being a drug dealer.”
“Used to be, John, used to be. Anyway, DeSean’s death really shook me up. Even when I was far away from God, I always believed the Bible’s version of Heaven and hell. Seeing his lifeless body on the grass, those two eternal places loomed large in my mind.
“If DeSean left this planet without first trusting in Jesus, which, as a self-professed atheist, appears to be the case,” Leroy said, shaking his head sadly, “he’s suffering so much more torment now than he ever did on the streets.
“Shoot, this life’s a breeze compared to that horrific dwelling place. Despite how hopeless his life may have seemed here at the park, he would do anything to trade places with us, just to have an opportunity to obtain salvation. But it’s too late for him. Like everyone else in hell, he’s doomed for all eternity.”
John bit his lower lip. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop his heart from beating wildly in his chest.
“When I finally sobered up the next morning, it dawned on me that had I been killed that night, I’d be in hell too. Scared me straight, man. I prayed that God would send someone to straighten me out before it was too late. That’s when Enoch appeared.”
“Does anyone know where he came from?” John asked.
“No.”
“Has anyone asked him?”
“Of course, we have,” Tiwanna said, “but he seems content to leave it a mystery.”
“We may not know where he came from,” said Pedro, “but believe me when I say, he was answered prayer for so many here. God used him to completely turn so many lives around, including the three of us.”
“Yeah, before the old man came,” Leroy confessed, “I was always looking for a reason to argue with anyone. All someone had to do was look at me the wrong way, and I was ready for a fistfight. I may be old, but I can still handle myself. Right, Pedro?”
Pedro nodded yes.
“Ha! You’re nothing but a big Teddy bear, Leroy!” Tiwanna’s comment made Leroy and Pedro laugh.
Leroy grew serious again. “I must say, the ones who bothered me most back then were those proclaiming to be something they were not.”
“Yeah, like who?”
“Fake Christians, mostly. Because we keep it real here with nothing to hide, it’s easy for us to spot fake or pretentious people a mile away. Including churchgoers. I believe many who come here are the real deal, but not all. Some spew a bunch of packaged Christian catchphrases as if their lives were so on-track. In truth, they’re just as lost as the unconverted. It’s not the words they speak but the lives they lead that reveals their true inner selves.”
“Always had a problem with hypocritical Christians myself,” John remarked, realizing how foolishly hypocritical it was for him to say such a thing when he was the biggest hypocrite of all.
Leroy went on, “In truth, we’re all hypocrites and terrible followers of Jesus at times. But praise God for Enoch. I can’t begin to tell you how much God used the old man to help transform this once angry black man, from the inside out.
“His willingness to never let the negative opinions of others affect him taught me firsthand that the only person I can control is myself. At the end of the day, all that matters is how God sees me.”
Pedro interjected, “Whenever I see people walk by wearing thousand-dollar suits and dresses, I can’t help but wonder if they have eternal security or not. They can have all the money in the world. Problem is they won’t live on this planet forever. And they can’t take it with them when they’re gone. The security most cling to is false and temporary. I don’t envy them. Instead I pray for them.”
“In truth, they used to make me so envious,” Tiwanna confessed. “For many years, I felt society had gypped me of something and had yet to pay the bill. In my mind, life on the streets was always ‘us versus them’.
“Since I had nothing, and they had everything, I was always trying to get over on anyone I could, including those who came here out of the goodness of their hearts to feed us. It was all about me. Enoch changed everything…”
Nodding agreement, Leroy said, “What I’m about to tell you I’d never admit a few months ago. Accept it as insider secrets. Some folks living here have mastered the art of looking and sounding so pitiful that good-intentioned citizens who feed us practically throw money at them.
“With fake tears in their eyes, they make up all kinds of excuses, saying they need money for food, or for bus passes, so they can apply for jobs in the morning, and on and on. But more times than not it’s all lies. The money’s used for drugs or alcohol.”
Leroy eyeballed John, “I know what I’m talking about because it used to be me.”
“Me too,” Tiwanna said.
“Also guilty,” Pedro said. “Can’t say I blame ordinary people for not wanting to come here anymore. We’ve turned the city park into one big racket.”
Leroy continued, “Truth is, only a few panhandlers on street corners holding cardboard signs use what they collect for food and housing. Most use it to fuel their bad habits. And what the public doesn’t know is that some make as much as fifty to two-hundred bucks an hour standing on corners with cardboard signs.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yup. Some collect more in a few hours than most folks earn working full time jobs.” Leroy grimaced. “With that kind of money, they could live better than most. But the constant pull of drugs and alcohol is very strong on an addict. They’d rather have those things than a roof over their heads. And they’ll do anything to get them.”
“It’s common seeing women and even men selling themselves dirt cheap, if you know what I mean, just to support their addictions. Many even sell the food stamp credits they get each month for pennies on the dollar for the same reason. Even the gift cards we get on occasion from good Samaritans for fast food end up being sold for money. If something’s redeemable, they’ll find a way to turn it into quick cash.”
John shook his head in disbelief.
“But you never have to worry about Lydia and the kids,” Leroy said. “We got their backs. But you may wanna tell your wife to leave her handbag at home when she comes to feed us. The moment she starts handing out money, many will expect it at each feeding.”
What money? We’re as broke as you are! “Thanks for the tip. Leroy.”
Pedro said, “Don’t worry, John, every cent of the fifty bucks you gave us last time all went for good. Had you given it to us a few months ago, it would have been drunk, snorted or smoked ten minutes after you were gone.”
“True that,” Tiwanna exclaimed.
John turned to face Leroy, “I must ask, Leroy, why are you so insistent on not giving money to anyone?”
Leroy shifted his body on the blanket. “If someone you loved had a serious drug or alcohol addiction, would you give them money knowing it would be spent on those things?”
“Of course, not.”
“Well, street people are made in God’s image too. Jesus delivered me from the bondage of drugs and alcohol and so many other vices. If He can straighten me out, He can straighten anyone out. Jesus is all they need.
“The more sober they are, the better chance we have to share God’s Word in a way they can best understand it. So, by not giving them money, which will only be used for bad things anyway, you’re actually helping our cause here.”
“That’s very noble of you, Leroy.” Just when I thought I heard it all. Homeless people telling me not to give money to their own kind...
“That’s why if God wants me to stay here for His purpose and glory, I’m willing to stay. Besides, how can I leave with so much work to do? I know Satan’s gonna do all he can to try and reclaim this territory. Someone has to step up in the old man’s absence and lead the battle. I figured why not me?”
“Amen to that, brother,” said Pedro.
“After so many years working the streets for my own personal gain, it feels good to be working for Jesus now. After all, He died for me, a former drug dealer. Imagine that...” Leroy’s voice trailed off.
The way he said it so tenderly nearly brought John to tears.
“Are you saying you’ll remain homeless?”
“If that’s what God wants, yes! Once God saves us, John, He gives us different callings. Anyone who thinks following Jesus will suddenly relieve them of all their earthly problems better think again.
“It took a long time for me to finally realize the Apostle Paul never glamorized the Gospel, by preaching a message on personal success or comfort like many preach from the pulpits today. He preached on self-sacrifice, faith and obedience to God above all other things.
“If you compare Paul’s message to the ‘lap of luxury’ message many in the world preach today, you’ll see there’s no comparison. You can’t be Christ’s servant if you’re not willing to follow Him, cross and all. Only then can anyone live a life worthy of the Gospel.
Leroy exhaled deeply, “Besides, after so many years out here in the trenches, I can relate first-hand to what they’re going through. And there’s something to be said about making a difference at the very edge of darkness.
“Shoot, my struggles are nothing,” he said, the atmosphere struggling to soak up his deep, booming voice, “when compared to the hundreds of thousands in the world who are in prison because of their faith in Jesus.”
“Preach on, brother Leroy!” Wanda inched in closer to hear more of the conversation.
“A few months ago, I never understood how anyone could go through all that for their faith. Prison? Are you kidding me? Now that I’ve been transformed by the power of the Holy Spirit, I finally get it. And believe me when I say, I’ll never deny Jesus, no matter what the world tries doing to me. Even if I have to go to prison someday for my faith, so be it.”
