Milk

This week me and N both got paid so we decided to take ourselves out to eat. We never do anything really special so we went downtown to see if anything hit our fancy.

We were driving into the metropolis and for once in my life I was not applying lip gloss in the visor mirror or changing the station. Nope. My eyes were free to see a man. A homeless man.

Digging. In. A. Garbage. Can.

We happened to be stopped at a red light so I had approximately 2 minutes to jump out of the car and help him. Instead, I just watched. I watched him stick the whole length of his arm into a filthy Memphis garbage can and pull something out. The something was a pint of milk. He looked at it and then he shook it and then he set it down on the rim.

He shuttered before going back in to see what else the garbage can had to offer and then he stopped. He went back to the milk. He grabbed it in his aged, weary hands and proceeded to take the top off.

Next, he smelled the milk.

He made a sour face as would anyone if they smelled milk that had come from a garbage can. I can only image how long it had been there. He capped the milk but he was thirsty. So thirsty that he removed the cap one more time and raised the jug to his lips.

The light turned green and N pulled away. I was on a date with the man who holds my heart but at that moment my heart with on a street corner with a man holding a glass of rotten milk.

I couldn't contain myself and began weeping for the man. Why was he there for me to see? What did God want to teach me from that? What is my duty as a Christian to aid the situation.

After I composed myself and apologized to N 1,000 times for crying over spilt rotten milk, I fell in love with him all over again. He said to me, "Do you want to go find him and invite him to dinner?" The tears returned as I said yes. So the search for the barren man began.

It still haunts to say it, but we did not find him. I kept praying over and over that the Lord would guide my footsteps straight to him. Or him to me. He had my heart and  I wanted it back just wanted to get to know the man who captured it while digging in filthy trash. But no such luck. So me and N continued on with our original plans...to have dinner. With each other. And while it was wonderful to spend time with my own prince charming, I wanted to share the story of a Prince of Peace to another man.

I am not sure why I experienced what we did that evening but I haven't been able to forget about it. I have prayed constantly for the man. I want to know that he didn't drink that milk. I want to know if he has received compassion from another Christian.

If I never understand that particular experience, I do understand the lesson that it taught me.

From today until my very last, I will pounce on every opportunity I am offered to help someone out. No matter what it takes. Especially if it means jumping out of a car door at a red light to offer to replace a jug of spoiled milk with the Gospel of Grace.