The New Orleans morning rush of traffic was upon him.
Dressed in an old tee shirt and jeans, 50 yr old guy stumbled in the middle of street, going down to his knees, clutching tightly the cup in his hand.
People walked around him,
keeping a safe distance.
Begging for strength he fought to make his way to the corner, the light was changing.
He lunged for the fire hydrant and clung to it, as a life preserver.
He held tightly, struggling for composure.
He rested... people walked by. He heard the comments, mixed with snickering and laughter.
Words called out to him, "drunk!".... and worse.
No one stopped.
No one offered help. No one cared.
He was one of those.... lost, without hope, cast out, cast off and forgotten.
Who was he? Who is he?
I know him.
He is a pastor. He is a husband, a father, a son, a good man.
The cup held his morning coffee.
He has back problems, that can come on suddenly, especially in the early hours of the day.
The pain threw him to his knees that morning... in the middle of the street.
He saw first hand how others..... how WE treat the lost.
Should people have stopped if they knew he wasn't a drunk?
Is that what makes the difference?
Are the drunks and cast out.. not good men?
Are they not sons, brothers, husbands, children of The Most High.
Why don't we care enough to stop and help them to the curb?
Are we so afraid for our own safety that we refuse to help?
Where in the Word does it tell us to constantly look out for our own good, our well being?
Isn't that what the Messiah took care of, when He struggled the path to the cross, stumbling to his knees in agony, getting up and continuing.... for us.
Didn't they shout insults at Him, calling Him names?
Are we any better than these people?
Jesus said, "Feed my sheep"... not once, but three times.
The sheep are in need. They are drunk, sick, lost and dying all around us.
Lord, help me open my eyes, that I may see them.
And when I stumble.... will anyone care enough to help me up?