A Teenager, Christ and the Homeless

Many Christians are of the opinion that their testimony is of no interest to anyone else. I have heard this repeatedly as I talk to friends, neighbors, clergy, etc. The 15 year-old young man that I am telling you about doesn't think anyone would be interested in his testimony. I guess that is to be expected, it all probably seems pretty routine to him.

His typical Sunday schedule goes something like this:

He gets up well before 6 a.m. so that he can be ready when the church van arrives at 6:15. The van takes him to a small church in Marietta where he will spend the next 3-4 hours helping feed and offering encouragement to 70 homeless men and women. After this, the van takes him to his own church where he participates in Sunday morning services. Then, after grabbing a quick lunch, at 1:30 he goes to pick up some day-old bread donated by Publix. He takes this bread to a trailer park where he goes door-to-door delivering the free bread and talking to people. Late afternoon he returns to his church to participate in youth group activities. Afterward, he returns home to finish off his homework.

When I found out that he was helping feed the homeless on Sunday mornings, I accepted an invitation to join him. That morning, I met seven other remarkable loving, caring Christians. Some worked in the small old United Methodist church kitchen preparing food. Some drove the vans and cars which brought everyone to the church.

First, the food was served and everyone ate their fill of biscuits, gravy, eggs, grits and salmon patties. Then, personal hygiene kits and donated windbreaker jackets were distributed to all. Next, we all went upstairs to the small sanctuary where we sang and prayed together. Pastor Bill delivered one of the most passionate sermons I have heard. Some came forward during the altar call.

After the services were finished, the church van brought me back to my home. But the person that they brought back was not the same person that had left the house four hours earlier.

Now, when I see a thunderstorm raging outside, my mind drifts to the faces of those 70 men and women who shared a church service with me. And I wonder how they are. Every evening before bed, when I lock my house and turn on my alarm system, I can't help looking outside at the trees in my back yard. The trees remind me of Charley and Wayne and the other homeless men and women that are falling asleep in the woods somewhere a few short miles away.

Then I look beyond those trees to see the house where the 15 year-old young man lives. And I close my eyes in prayer and thank God for this young man. The young man who thinks his testimony would be of little interest to you and I.