For the one who questions whether God directs our steps … this post is for you.
On the streets last night, we loved on some precious friends, sitting with them, talking to them.
I chatted with a man who has struggled with using drugs. He spoke of being near some people who are still caught in that bondage and how he walked away.
“So you didn’t use?” I asked, boldly.
“No, I didn’t. I had to go the other way.”
“I’m thankful you did. When we love Christ, when He’s our passion, we want to walk in obedience to Him. And if there’s one thing that will keep you away from serving God, it’s drugs.”
“I know. I know. Will you pray for me?”
“Of course.” I also prayed for his wife, and a new friend from Michigan. And one who wanted vengeance.
As we chatted, they all decided I was not a true Southerner as I used all of my letters in my words. And they made fun of me, of how I say you guys.
But I noticed as they spoke with their Southern drawl how their smiles returned, how hope rose up, and how bonds of friendship unfolded.
One of my homeless friends asked about his tennis shoes, those I told him I’d bring some two weeks ago. Well, I’d left them with some friends at the homeless camps, as I thought they’d see him first. And he had not gotten them.
So I drove to the camps, retrieved the shoes and brought them back. My friend almost seemed surprised that the shoes existed, that I had really carried them around, and dropped them off for him.
He then sat with us, laughing, talking, and being part of a most great memory, when this lady who sat near, asked, “Are you Ms. Pam?”
“Yes, and you are?”
She told me her name, her husband’s name, and her daughter’s name. Her husband exclaimed,
“We’ve been looking for you for eight months!”
Shocked, I repeated, “Eight months?”
I would discover their daughter was starting school, and would be wearing her only outfit. So, yes, a trip to Wal-Mart would bring shoes, clothes, a backpack, and a lunch box with her favorite Lunchable.
I did get the wrong size shoes, but drove back to exchange them right then!
And the best part is … God brought this family into our path, that of my friend Hollyann and myself, at the right time.
Because if we’d never jumped into the car to get the shoes from the camps — we would have already gone home for the evening and not met the most prettiest 4th grader ever!
Who loves her bright-colored backpack! And her sparkly pants!
However, I never found out why this family looked for me for eight months! But it doesn’t matter, because apparently, when God directs our steps, the search is over!