Chair people are everywhere
The man sat in a chair outside the laundry mat, and I disappeared inside to deliver a pair of shoes to a new homeless friend who was doing her laundry. Earlier when I’d met her, she was wearing socks with flip flops, doing her best to keep the plastic sandals on her feet.
While inside, I remembered the container. The one with the hygiene bags from students at the middle school in New Boston, those in a gray tub in the back of my SUV. Those given to me last week from kind hearts.
So I grabbed a few items from my car, saw the young man on the chair, and smiled at him this time.
Then, another friend washing his items who had a dog, a hungry one too, needed some dog food. So, I ran after a bag of dog food and parked in front of the laundry mat again, right in front of the man in the chair. I spoke, “Hi, it’s me again.”
He asked, “So who are you?”
I walked over to him. “I’m Pam. I guess I’m your new friend.”
“No, I mean. What are you doing?”
“Doing?”
“You keep going inside and taking things to people. I just wondered what you’re doing.”
“Oh, those are friends of mine. Most are homeless and trying to find their way.”
“Oh, so you just give people things?”
“I guess you could say that. Friends take care of each other.”
He nodded, and I went inside with the dog food and passed out more hygiene bags to a few friends.
One friend marched to the back of my vehicle, where we prayed about her future and her fears about the unknown. She told me, “I don’t trust Christians too much. They’ve hurt me.”
“Well, if you get to know me, I’m sure I will mess up. But thankfully, we can trust God. He’s who we can lean on, trust, and serve.”
“I need to trust again. I don’t do that so good.”
We chatted for a bit and prayed again about her health, her needs, and her desire to find work. And then, she went inside to finish her laundry, and I stood there holding a bag of socks.
I moved toward my chair friend. “Hi, could you use these? They’re brand new.”
“I could use a pair.”
“Then how about a few, so you’ll have a clean pair in between.” I pulled out a scripture card. “This verse points to the Savior. I hope you get to know Him, that you seek Him with your life.”
He peered at the card like he was reading the verse repeatedly as he clutched the socks to his chest. He called to me. “You’re a strange lady. Thanks for the socks.”
“You’re welcome. I hope to see you again—some time.” I turned back. “What did your card say?”
He looked at the card. “It talks about finishing the race and completing the task the Lord has given me, the task of testifying to the good news of God’s grace.”
When he finished, I spent a few minutes with the man; he wiggled in his seat, listened, spoke of his past, and struggled to find good in his surroundings.
He said, “I’m glad I came to do my laundry. You’ve reminded me there’s more than the dark walls in my small apartment.”
I grinned. “Yes, this is the day the Lord has made; let’s rejoice and be glad in it.”
You know, I spent a little more than an hour or so at the laundry mat that day, flitting in and flitting out, and running here and going there—when in reality, I have this feeling that the Lord sent me to that corner to meet a new friend, one with blue eyes and a bag of laundry, who sat alone, who needed socks and hope in Christ.
And then, I wonder, how many other chair-people sit outside of different places—in need of a new friend! May I have eyes to see, and may I move in love toward them! Let’s be a “strange” and peculiar people for the Lord!
If we open our hearts to the world near us, we can not only give away a few minutes of our time, but we can get the opportunity to invite others to know the Christ who clothes us with new life and offers redemption. Sometimes, if we’re not careful, all we see is the darkness. It’s time to let the light of Christ burst into our day! And into those, we meet along the way!