A story from my day - Thursday, February 16th. North Long Beach.
I'm recovering from a back and hip injury these days and driving is a literal pain in the ass. I'm good for 20 minutes behind the wheel before I need to stand up and stretch. I can push it to 30, but I look like I'm dancing in my seat and I pay for it later. Yesterday, after the first half hour of my drive home, I had to stop. I pull off the freeway and into a gas station. I stepped out of my car. It was not pretty, and limped in obvious pain toward the station's convenience store.
As I neared the door, a man stepped from the side of the building and spoke to me.
"You look like you need prayer."
I responded with, "What makes you think that?"
"You are in pain. I can see that. I can't help any other way. So I'm going to pray for you."
I thanked him and continued limping into the store. He was homeless and dirty, yet he did not ask for anything. Instead he tried to express sympathy for my condition. He tried to connect.
I bought myself some water so that I could take a Tylenol. Then, I picked up a tall cup of coffee and a few doughnuts. I limped back outside and gave they guy the coffee and doughnuts. We talked for five minutes. I told him about my life and he told me about his. We connected, but had little in common. His name was James.
Near the end, he asked that I pray with him. I told him I don't pray. He asked me how I show love. I told him I buy coffee and doughnuts and talk to people. He gave me a hug.
I cried on the drive home.