My drive home after work this evening is just like all the rest, incredibly dull. After driving this route for so many years, I can drive it in my sleep. Pulling up to my turn onto Highway-Seventy, I notice a man sitting by the curb, begging. Nothing unusual, until I read his sign. It says, “God has forgotten me, please help.”

That got my attention, and I quickly turn into the Exxon station. I want to talk to this man. After parking, I slowly walk towards him with all the money I have in my hand. That brings a smile to his face. The man's clothes are torn and tattered; his shoes have holes in them, there's an old military backpack sitting behind him. His black, Army, baseball cap covers his eyes. Long, scraggly gray hair falls out of his hat to his shoulders. But I still haven't seen his eyes.

He holds his hand out for the money. Instead of just handing it to him, I kneel in front of him to give him a message of hope. “Sir, I want you to know that God has not forgotten you. He is standing with you always. Maybe it's you who has forgotten His love. Please use this gift for food or to better yourself.”

The beggar slowly lifts his face to me. His eyes are a piercing blue. They see right through me. What a dazzling smile and the kindest face I've ever seen. “Thank you, my friend. I've been waiting all day for a good soul to share that message with me. You are a true blessing.”

“You're welcome,”

I head back to my car. When I glance back. There's no one sitting there.

~

That night, I'm lying in bed, unable to sleep. The beggar's face is haunting me. His message constantly plays in my mind. That man was no beggar, but who was he?

“No, but it all fits. It was Jesus, waiting for a good soul to return His message.”