The man standing at the counter was pouring his heart out.
"I may not make it through the winter. If I die, will you remember
We could see his pain and began praying for him. He doffed his cap,
and bowed his head. As we continued praying, tears rolled down his
cheek. After we finished praying, he began to cry out to the Lord.
He mentioned his struggles, his addictions and the fact that he felt
his life was near it's end. Yet he also began to pray for us. He
prayed that God would bless the work we do, that God would watch
over us and help us to help others like him.
Some would write this off as the rambling of an intoxicated man.
Yet that line, "would you remember my name", resonates with me. I
assured him that we knew him, would never forget him and more
importantly that Jesus would never forget him.
How often do we forget though? How often do we forget that each
person we meet has a story. We can write off whole segments of
society, or write a check for others to do the work...but we are all
called to be ministers of grace, ministers of hope.
How often do we listen for the stories of those around us? We often
ask people how they are but do we want to hear the truth? Do we
take the time to actually listen?
Jesus did, He still does.
Lord help us to have listening ears, listening hearts and to be your
hands of grace to everyone we meet.