January 17

There's a homeless guy who hangs out at the Mother Ship. I know his name and chit-chat with him sometimes while I'm waiting in line. To protect his privacy, I'll just call him J.

When Brady and I got there this morning for our customary Wednesday pre-school date, J was sitting there at one of the little tables with a cup of coffee. He was hunched over reading something, and I said hi on my way to the register. After I sat down, I realized I'd left my food in the car, so I went out to get it and with J in mind, I decided to bring in an entire box.

I pulled one out for myself and then two for J, and then went over to his table and asked if he liked peanut butter. He smiled and said "oh, yes!" and accepted the two bars. I returned to my chair and, while exchanging the usual witty repartee, watched as J ate both of them in quick succession. So I got up and gave him the rest of the box, which he accepted gratefully and then proceeded to down with great efficiency

He was hungry. Really hungry. 

The truth stung as it sunk in: a guy that I see just about every weekday was so hungry that he wolfed down four biscuits in record time. Four biscuits that I bought last week and left in my car because I forgot I had them. I can do better than that. I should do better.

But today, I'm thankful that I felt compelled to do something. Because as Jesus said, when we do something for someone who can't pay us back, we're doing it for Him. And I want to do whatever I can for Him.