OPEN DOORS

 4272

Earlier this week I stopped at CVS to buy something which I needed. After placing a couple of Christian tracts on the shelving which I walked past, (something I often do), and purchasing the item I came for, I was walking out of the store when I noticed a small black man, perhaps a bit younger than me, standing in front of the building. He was shabbily dressed, and I knew what was about to happen.

"Could you spare a few dollars, so I can get something to eat?"

Normally, I am very skeptical of this ploy, and I am aware that far too many street people have no intention of returning to the lifestyle they once knew, and that they use 90 percent of the money they collect for alcohol.

However, before I could reply in the negatory, he continued.

"I burned my hand and forearm, and I can't work."

I looked down at his left hand and arm, and noticed he was holding a tennis ball. I surmised he continued to work that hand to keep it flexible. Studying his hand and forearm, it was apparent the poor man was telling the truth. The palm of his hand bore a shiny, whitish finish, and the skin on his wrist had the striated, crinkly look of having been burned in a fire. I reached in my pocket, and pulled out a twenty dollar bill, and placed it in his good hand.

And then, I did something that was uncharacteristic of me. I placed my right hand on his left arm, and said,

"My our Lord Jesus give you a healing touch."

Now, I turned towards my car, got in, started the ignition and aimed it towards a convenience store across the road. I had been craving a soft drink; namely, Coca Cola. As I walked in the door, I greeted the East Indian owner, and headed towards the drink machine.

Now, a middle aged man walked in behind me, and the man behind the counter posed a question to him.

"Are you feeling better?"

To which the man provided him a somewhat nebulous answer,

"Oh, I'll be here 'til I'm not."

I grabbed a Coke out of the cooler. In the meantime, I noticed that "Joe" had retrieved a six pack of Budweiser beer. And given what he had just said, I looked at him, and exclaimed,

"I tell people, 'We can't stay here.'"

Joe nodded, and said,

"You are absolutely right, my friend."

Determined to follow up on my attempt to take advantage of the moment with these two men, and my allusion to the certainty we will all depart this world, I began to sing the first stanza of the most well known song which has ever been written.

"Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost but now I'm found, was blind but now I see."

Now, as he laid his six pack on the counter, I asked him,

"Do you know that hymn?"

Joe nodded,

"Yes, I know that song."

I smiled, paid for my drink, and walked out. I was content that I had "walked through" every open door our Lord had given me on this particular day.

by Bill McDonald, PhD