I met a man today. “Mam, could you spare fifty cents?” I
hurried on to my car, somewhat angry that he had seen the ten dollar bill I was
holding as I exited the dry cleaning store. As I slammed the car door, I looked
behind me and the scraggly, stooped over man was nowhere to be seen.
Could it have been
Jesus? An angel? How could the skinny man have disappeared so quickly?
I immediately felt remorse. No matter that as a woman alone
in a parking lot I probably shouldn’t stop and talk with a strange man. No
matter that he might have assaulted me, grabbed my purse while I rummaged
through it, or abducted me. No amount of rationalization would comfort my
tormented thoughts as I pulled out of the parking lot and drove down the road.
Tears formed in my eyes and crept down my cheeks. “I’m
sorry, Jesus. Was that You? Was that a divine appointment for my day? What
would You have done? Were You hungry and I refused to feed you, simply
muttering, ‘No Sir’, and hurrying on my way? Please forgive me. I was angry,
afraid.”
I met a man today then simply went on my way. But I will
always wonder.
