Taking the Time to Listen; a Reflection by Nathan F.
I had just come out of the local Food for Less, carrying my “dinner,” a bag of honey mustard pretzels and peanut butter swirl ice cream, and there he was, dressed up almost as though he was a soldier in the Salvation Army. I glanced at him, then averted my eyes, eager to indulge myself after my half mile walk home, but I could not continue on my way after he addressed me.
I almost never can walk away after that initial eye contact–some inner reminder that I’ve been there, that I understand, and I listened. Only after several minutes of our relating to each other and my tossing some bills in his tin can for his recovery ministry did he tell me. He had been there–he had hit rock bottom on the streets. I understood why he endured hours of rejection, averted eyes, and unrelenting ambivalence from the shopping crowds. Yes, he had faced far worse, and had been plucked up by the One who is most familiar with sorrow and suffering. I could see it in his eyes–a dancing light, joy just a step ahead of his tears.
I was glad to count him my brother, glad for a comrade to encourage and be strengthened by, glad that there are many doing the work of the Lord, even outside of Food for Less.
[image by Steven Shorrock]
