A cop. A judge. And breakfast galore.

Windy. Gray. Cold. And beautiful. This describes the morning at Church under the Bridge, even though the morning involved a cop and a judge. And a marvelous God who sent caring people across a friend’s path. After service, a homeless friend came up with praise for the medicine that made his toothache ease up, and then he shouted more words that burst from him like a miracle whirling from within his soul.
His words popped out, “You aren’t going to believe it. People were looking at me like I was in trouble by the police.”
“What are you talking about?” We stood like wobbly trees and huddled closer, and blocked the wind with our bodies as five of us made a circle. A couple of other friends listened in, their antennas of curiosity ready to absorb the story along with me.
P. grinned, “A police car came up on the road really early this morning and the officer who got out brought us some breakfast. Can you believe it? He brought breakfast to the camps before we ate at the bridge.”
“Wow. That’s great. Did you know him?”
“I do now. And he is going to check and see if he can get me a kennel for our dog, too.” He folded his arms. “I sort of ran from cops in the past, for things I used to do.”
“What a nice thing for him to do. He sure was thoughtful.”
“But that’s not the best part. There was this lady who came up right behind him, and she had food for us as well, and she … she’s a judge. A judge. Like in a court. And she was my judge in court awhile back. My judge.” He hit his chest. “My judge.”
“She’s a judge from here? And she was yours?”
“Yes, when I saw her this morning, I took my hat off, and asked her if she remembered me. I can’t believe I know her. And she came out to our camps with food, too. She even asked me if I’m staying out of trouble, and I told her yes.”
“That was pretty neat for you to see her outside the court room. And look how kind she was to you.”
“I know. It was very cool. She was … so nice.”
I patted his arm. “You know, the Lord seemed to be thinking of you this morning, to send you breakfast before breakfast, and to give you two new friends, too.”
My shivering friend nearly danced, “God w…a…s thinking of me. He was…”
When that moment unfolded, the wind suddenly felt warm and the air smelled like warm biscuits from the oven, and I never was so proud to live in this county.
Even now, I linger at how my friend felt special on this cold day in December and how he smiled like someone who had forgotten his tooth hurt. I also linger at thinking about how God reaches into our day in the most remarkable ways too, and how He sends people along the path to change our perspective, like breakfast for our soul. Without a gavel. Or without getting arrested!!

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