Johnny Wilcox called me an angel...
I got into a really good conversation last night. I was talking with some friends about the possibility of there being a more spiritual realm present in this life that we can tap into through meditation, yoga, prayer, or some form of extended communication with our creator. And although I feel that we can be proactive in accessing this realm and being more aware of its presence on a regular bases, I also believe that there are random moments throughout our lives that the realm itself actually cuts through our obliviousness and forces us to face the deeper level of spirituality that lies beneath the surface of this life-- whether it's being inexplicably moved by a piece of music, or having a breathtaking experience with nature, or feeling as though time stood still when you were drinking wine and sharing stories with the just perfect permutation of friends. *** Haley shared a story with us of a young boy at her camp that was paralyzed on the left side of his body, but loved dancing. And while dancing at camp, he got so lost in the music, so 'surrendered' to the moment, that at one point both of his arms just danced up above his head. To me, these are moments when the spiritual realm pierces through our thick layers of egocentrism, and materialism, and every other artificial -ism that society drowns us in, in order to expose small glimpses of what the creator truly intended life to be.
A few months ago, I had an encounter with said spiritual realm, and I wrote it down in my journal so I could come back to it and remember God's clear signs of his presence in our lives:
I had been praying for you to soften my heart and show me more day-to-day ways that I can serve those who are less fortunate than me and teach me to see people as Jesus saw them. I passed by Johnny today as I was walking home from church. He shook his cup of money, I smiled at him and kept walking, and he called out after me, something like, "Have a blessed day." After several more steps, something tugged at my heart-- I can't keep walking away from the poor saying that I'm afraid to give them money because I don't know what they'll do with it. That's just an excuse, and you are calling me to something more. So I turned around and asked him if I could buy him a sandwich. He asked for an egg and cheese sandwich and a cup of coffee. While I was inside purchasing his meal, I wondered how this was advancing the kingdom of God. Wasn't I just giving him a handout? Wouldn't I just be dropping off an inexpensive sandwich and then be on my way to my warm apartment and my fridge full of groceries? Would he in any way link this act to 'God'? Would this in someway strengthen his faith and bring him closer to you? Would this in any way change him or change me? I wanted to be obedient, and I wanted to help someone in need, but I couldn't understand where you really fit into the picture. Nevertheless, I took his sandwich and coffee out to him, and he was mid-conversation with a man who had just left a dollar in his cup. I didn't fully understand what the original question must have been, but Johnny was answering it fervently: "Of course I have Jesus! God is sending me angels! This morning I had pains in my stomach because I needed something to eat. This girl (pointing to me), at first passed by me, but then turned back around to offer me food. And you've given me this dollar so I can buy a cup of coffee later. I sleep under the train tracks at night, with the rats, and when I wake up in the morning, I'm dehydrated-- I need a cup of coffee. So people say, 'Is there a God, or is there not a God?' Of course there's a God! And he's sending his angels to us. God is good!" And there was my answer.
Really?! Could that conversation have been any more perfectly engineered and timed?! Not to say that every person who is helped believes in God or that he's sending angels, but that conversation was for me, not Johnny. In fact, I would be bold enough to say that Johnny knows more about God than I do. Perhaps Johnny spends more time accessing the spiritual realm than I do. To sleep with rats, in the subway tunnels, in the dead of New York winter, and say, 'God is good,' displays a level of faith that I've never experienced in my life. Johnny was actually my angel that day that God was using to speak to me. I instantly flashed to my months of whining and complaining in NYC-- about being cold or not having enough money or feeling lonely...
God, I don't know how you put up with me, but thank you for your patience, and thank you for teaching me a little every day. May I be diligent enough to spend time-- removed from the hustle and bustle -- tapping into your realm of unfiltered joy, peace, and love.
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