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A week before Christmas, John and I went to downtown Minneapolis for a Christmas concert. We’d attended our Saturday evening church service, scarfed down a quick dinner, and perhaps pushed the speed limit a bit to get there on time. As we left the parking lot, motivated by our time crunch and the bitter cold temperature, we were hurrying to our destination when a homeless man approached us asking for money. He told us that he usually went to Mary’s Place (a homeless shelter) to eat, but he didn’t get there in time and was hungry.

My flesh wanted to keep walking, but my spirit said no. Several years ago, I read Under the Overpass by Mike Yankoski. While going to an expensive Christian college in California, Mike decided that it was easy to say, “The Lord will supply my needs” when everything was being provided for him, but what if he truly needed to trust God to supply his needs, then what? So, Mike and a friend decided to live on the streets for five months. It was an eye-opening book, and I highly recommend it. One of the things I remember most from the book is that hungry people are not usually aggressive. They don’t have the energy to be aggressive. If they’re aggressive, they are more than likely wanting money for drugs or alcohol.

So, knowing what I now know, I have started giving cash. I reason that I am accountable to God for how I respond to a homeless person’s needs. The homeless person is then accountable for what he does with said money. And, I don’t give to every homeless person I see, but God usually makes it clear to me who I should help.

Back to the homeless man, I started telling you about. I felt convicted to give him some money. I knew the types of bills I had in my purse were limited to a couple of ones, a couple of tens, and a fifty-dollar bill. Even at McDonald’s, $2 wasn’t going to get the man fed, and the $50 bill seemed excessive, so I pulled out my purse and gave him a $10 bill. As I handed him the money I said, “Here you go, now you can get some dinner,” and that’s when I got an amazing gift. The look on the man’s face was one of incredulity. It was as though he’d never been given such a gift. The man (whose name I now know is Sean) thanked me profusely and then said, “Can I pray for you?” When I said “yes”, he laid his hand on my shoulder (in a kind way, not a creepy way), thanked God for me, and asked the Lord to shower down blessings on me. After he said, “Amen,” I prayed for him, asking God to protect him and provide for his needs.

Many will say I was a fool, but I don’t have to answer to them. I felt strongly encouraged by the Holy Spirit to help Sean, and I won’t say no to the Holy Spirit. I know, when we bless others, God blesses us. Even three months later, I can’t stop thinking about Sean and the joy I felt from his reaction. It was priceless.