My Servant Husband

My eyes flooded with tears upon seeing a homeless man under a bridge on our way home from Starbucks last night. As the cars rushed past this man, I wondered if people even took a second glance at him. Did they wonder who he was? Did they care?

As we drove, my emotions continued and I was suprised at how raw they were. I thought about how many more there are like him, standing out in the cold, late at night or in the early morn, begging. It didn't matter how he got there, but only that he was there. I said to Jeff, "Let's go back and give him my chai." It was the least I could do, maybe I would warm his heart, too.

We turned around and drove back a ways, hoping he was still there. He was. He smiled as Jeff handed him the warm drink, said in a raspy, loud voice "That sounds good!" He blessed us and we drove on.

It was a small gift, my chai and my prayer. But my husband gifted me too. He took me back, without complaint, without reservation, without trying to talk me out of it. As I wanted to serve someone, Jeffery served me selflessly. Jesus calls us to do just that.

Thank You My Love, for being like Jesus.