I was scared. Really scared.

Today I came across a video of a homeless man joining a musician in worship (boy, this video makes me cry such good tears!) and it reminded me of something I wrote shortly after we moved to the backwoods of Tennessee. (Really, a trip to Houston should not freak me out all that much, seeing how I’ve lived there, but… it still does.)  This is a most precious and convicting memory for me, and our family still continues to talk about it years later…

I was scared. Really scared. But it was a day for conquering fears.

As an effort to spend as much time with Gary as possible during his time in from the rig, we all flew down with him to Houston for a training class he had scheduled. We were in a hotel in downtown Houston, one of the WORST places in my mind’s eye to get out and drive around. Not only that, but I would have to face my fear of driving unfamiliar vehicles, and a large one at that! (Gary tells me the van we rented is about the same size as ours at home, but I truly believe it’s about 5 feet longer.) So, EVERYTHING inside of me was saying, “Just stay at the hotel with the boys. Sure, it’s like being inside a pinball machine with them bouncing around everywhere, but it’s what’s comfortable. I know what to expect.” But nevertheless, we had taken advantage of the fact that we were just a short ways from the museum district.

Though I’d nearly killed us a few times driving around Mecom Fountain where all logical rules of the road change, and I kept having to “drive around to get my bearings,” I still kept our schedule full of fun and exciting things. We went to the health museum on Wednesday – I even drove that monstrous van into a parking garage without wrecking it (for those of you who know I have a fear of parking garages…)! Thursday marked the day I was going to tackle TWO locations in one day – the Houston Zoo followed by the weather museum. So, after we rode aimlessly an extra bit (due to the fact that I was ALWAYS in the wrong lane to get where I needed to go when driving around that silly fountain), these dirty, sweaty Ferrell boys – along with their tired, worn-out mother – piled out of the van to enjoy learning about all things weather. After we pretended to be meteorologists for a while, a somewhat irritable mother (that would be me) decided it’s “time to go.” We returned to the van, me being a bit short with the boys along the way, when suddenly I saw a homeless man approaching our vehicle. I was scared. I mean, this fear ended up topping all others, since I was without Gary, somewhat distracted, and in a very unfamiliar area. And, yes, we were on a deserted side street, and what’s worse – I had even noticed this guy lurking about before we walked into the museum. I thought, “Oh, great, this guy has been waiting for us to come out alone…” A hundred other thoughts bolted through my panicked mind as I whisper-shouted at the boys to “hurry and buckle up!” A fierce mothering instinct to protect my children was in full gear at this point, as I thought he might want the contents of my purse…or worse…

I was about to shove some money through a crack in the window and drive off when he said, “I just wanted you to know that Jesus loves you.”

Going against all my impulses, I stayed.

I actually engaged in a conversation with this man who carried everything he owned on his back. Though I was prepared to floor the gas pedal, I paused for this moment in my life to see if this was a divine appointment. This homeless man and I discussed scripture back and forth, and then he opened his Bible to read a passage from 1 John. God used this man to remind me of His unfailing love, even though I was exhausted and cranky, and to remind me that my children are watching who I really am even in those moments. My judgmental attitude was completely exposed as I realized the stereotypes I hold in my heart and mind. Even so, God used this man that lives in much worse conditions than me to minister to me, for, of course, the scriptures that came forth from this man were exactly what I needed to hear. And to think – God is able to use this man to share the good news of Jesus Christ regardless of his circumstances because he is a willing vessel.

I am so glad that I met a light that God has placed in a dark world – a world I never come into contact with in my normal, everyday life. I met a missionary today, and all he asked of me was to pray for him. So I pray for him – for Jonathan, a homeless man sharing the Gospel on the streets of downtown Houston.

One day we will all join together in worship of our King.  Won’t it be glorious?