Just a Conversation

Recently, I spent time with a man who was detoxing from cocaine. He was from a different side of town than me, and we both sat in the same place with a lot of time to kill. He was in his late twenties, intelligent, and polite. He respectfully tried to give me his chair and spoke with eloquence.

He told me about the neighborhood he lives in and the house of horrors on the street corner that he watches from his house window. I told him about my boys. We talked about our families, and I mentioned that I have a large one.

The man told me about his beloved niece. She used to love playing with him, but as a teenager, she wanted nothing to do with him. He had seen her walking on the street a week prior and asked her to get in the car. He was trying to protect her, but she wouldn't listen. You know how teens know everything. He didn't want her to walk into the inevitable -- make a bad choice, pick the wrong guy, or try something just "one" time. He tries to save her, all the while trying to save himself. He's not the first one I've met with an addiction who plays the hero. I get it. I understand why they do it.

We continued our conversation and talked about my family for a bit. We'd turn our heads occasionally to check out the hall commotion and then talk some more. My new friend quoted some beautiful Bible passages, and I remember him saying, "Thy kingdom come," with a big smile on his face. "I like that one," I responded. He would meditate on these memorized verses day and night. I told him I recently read the story in Revelation of Jesus coming on his white horse with an army to my young boys. He said, "he liked that one a lot, too."

"Me too, my friend, me too."

My friend would shake a bit, get silent, and recompose himself. I asked him if I was making him uncomfortable. And he said, "No, ma'am. Thank you for talking to me today."

"Of course. I've enjoyed it."

Ending this conversation hurt hard this time. I knew I would never see this guy again. I prayed he would defeat those demons and oppression, and I'd pass him one day in the streets, clean and with that great smile on his face.

I'm not sure why God does what He does. I never fathomed sitting in that room with my new friend that day. It is the last place I would have chosen to be. And I certainly didn't plan on experiencing heartbreak when my friend thanked me for simply talking to him. But God, well, you know His ways are higher.

Everyone deserves a good conversation with another person who wants nothing in return. If you are struggling, I promise there is someone who cares. And if you can't find that person, I promise Jesus wants nothing more than to hear from you. Whether your conversation starts with, "Hey God, it's me again" or "God, it's been a while," you will never regret talking with Him.