It was an unusually cold day for the month of May. Spring had arrived and everything was alive with color. But a cold front from the north had brought the winter' s chill back to Illinois. I sat with two friends at the front window of a small restaurant, just off the corner of the town square. We sat enjoying the food and each others company but as we talked my eye caught the glimpse of a man across the street. He looked as if he'd been traveling for a long time and had a sack on his back. It looked to me as if he were caring every thing he owned in there. In his hands he was carrying a sign that read, "I will work for food" My heart sank,

I pointed him out to my friends and then noticed that others around us had stopped eating and were watching him. The looks on their faces went from sadness to disbelief. We continued to eat our meal, but his image stayed in my mind. We finished our meal and went our separate ways.

I had errands to do and quickly set out to get them done. I glanced toward the town square, looking somewhat halfheartedly for the strange visitor. I was fearful knowing that seeing him again would call some response. I drove through town and saw nothing of him. I did my errands and got back in my car. Deep within me, the Spirit of God kept speaking to me: "Don' t go back home until you' ve driven once more around the square."

And so, with some hesitancy, I headed back into town. As I turned the corner, I saw him. He was standing on the steps of the storefront church, going through his sack. I stopped and looked, feeling both compelled to speak to him, yet wanting to drive on. There was an empty parking space on the corner, like a sign from God. I pulled in and got out to welcome him.

"Looking for the pastor? I asked." "Not really," he replied, Just resting " Have you eaten today?" "Oh, I ate something early this morning." "Would you like to have lunch with me?" "Do you have some work I could do for you? " "No work, I replied, but I would really like to take you to lunch." "Sure," he said with a smile.

As he gathered his things, I began to ask him some questions. Where are you headed? Detroit ,he answered. Where are you from? Oh, all over: mostly Texas. How long have you been walking? Fourteen years, he said. I was astounded. We sat across from each other in the same restaurant I left earlier. His face looked weathered beyond his 38 years. His eyes were dark yet clear, and he spoke with an eloquence and articulation that was startling. He removed his jacket to reveal a bright red T-shirt that said, Jesus is The Never Ending Story. Then John' s story began to unfold.

He had been through some rough times early in life. He'd made some bad choices and paid for them. Fourteen years earlier, while backpacking across the country, he had stopped on the beach in Daytona. He tried to hire on with some men who were putting up a large tent and some equipment. A concert he thought. He was hired, but the tent would not house a concert, but a revival services, and in those services he saw life more clearly.

He gave his life over to God. Nothing's been the same since , he said, I felt the Lord telling me to keep walking, and so I did, some 14 years now. Ever think of stopping? I asked. Oh, once in awhile, when it seems to get the best of me. But God has given me this calling. I give out Bibles. That's what's in my sack. I work to buy food and Bibles, and I give them out when His Spirit leads.

I was astonished. My homeless friend was not homeless. He was on a mission and lived this way by choice. I had so many questions: What' s it like to walk into town caring all your things on your back and show your sign? Oh, it was humiliating at first. People would stare and make comments. Once someone tossed a piece of half-eaten bread and made a gesture that certainly didn't make me feel welcome. But then it became humbling to realize that God was using me to touch lives and change people' s views of other folks like me.

My views were changing, too. We finished our meal and gathered his things. Just outside the door, he paused. He turned to me and said, "Come ye blessed of my Father and inherit the Kingdom I' ve prepared for you. For when I was hungry you gave me food, when I was thirsty you gave me drink, a stranger and you took me in." I felt as if we were on holy ground.

Could you use another Bible? I asked. Sure. Let's stop by my church and see what we can find. I found him a Bible to add to his sack. Thank you, I' m very grateful. Where are you going next? I asked. Well I found this little map on the back of this amusement park coupon. Are you hoping to work there for awhile? No, I just figure I should go there. I figure someone under that star right there needs a Bible, so that's where I' m going next. He had such a warm smile on his face, this was a man with a mission.

Would you sign my autograph book? I keep messages from folks I meet. Meeting him had touched my life and I wanted to let him know that. So, I left him with a verse of scripture, in Jeremiah, I know the plans I have for you, declared the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you a future and a hope.

Thanks so much, he said. How long has it been since you had a hug? I asked. A long time, he replied. Well then this is way past due. As he started to pack up his things, he said , If you see something that makes you think of me, will you say a little prayer for me? "You bet," I shouted back." See you in the Promised Land" ,he said. You too, I replied. God bless. God bless. That was the last I saw of him. As I got into my car later that night, and reached for my emergency break, I saw a pair of old worn gloves neatly laid there. They were John's. I hoped his hands weren' t to cold tonight without them.

For Jesus had said,
"I will make you fishers of man".