As I walked past him I heard him ask those passing by (myself included) for money towards a downpayment on a cheeseburger. It brought a smile to my face and touched my heart, so my friend and I decided to get him a coffee and sandwich (there were no fast food places in sight). Stood there buying the coffee I was struck by cynical thoughts; thoughts that maybe he wouldn’t accept it and say that he wasn’t in the mood for coffee. Interesting to think that I was concerned about being rejected by someone who is rejected numerous times a day…I realised how selfish I am and how it was so not about me not feeling rejected, but about him feeling, if not much, maybe a little bit of dignity. We got the coffee and sandwich and gave it to him, and he was very grateful for it and positive. It was one of those wide open doors I could have stepped through, and maybe taken him closer to Jesus. But being pressed for time and with a commitment to the prophecy rooms we simply blessed him and told him Jesus loved him before we headed off. My heart was tugged and challenged by the situation. Looking back at it I become so aware of my own priorities and values, and wondering where the heart of Jesus is within them. How can I live in line with what He wants to do in peoples’ lives, including being faithful to the “planned” when the unexpected comes along.
Amsterdam. It still has that muggy feeling in Summer, and a constant flow of people which if you stop to think about it, it's quite amazing that there would even be space to accommodate them all. But then I guess they are not all staying. Just passing through on their way to or from somewhere. It's always good for the heart to visit somewhere that was once home. The familiarity of streets and customs makes it easier to embrace what might be new as well as the joy of being reacquainted with old friends. Friends. So many of them to be found in this city, ready with hugs and good words that are uttered when seeing someone who was away again. Friendship. A treasure that cannot be bought. Cobblestones trodden by many, including myself. Sitting on a bench. Praying. Remembering the first time I stumbled upon this area lined with windows with red lights and curtains. An area which has come to represent no longer windows, but people to me. Some still behind a window. Others who have ...