Thursday morning I was making my usual trek downtown to see who God would put in my path. Pioneer Square was covered due to the Ale Festival. As usuall most of the people I usually see are gone from the square. I have found that searching the bridges, riverfront, and Saturday Market area gives more people to meet. This day I got off the MAX and headed to the river. Something kept urging me left to the steel bridge.
"Not interested," I kept saying. "It's rainy, 11am, and everyone's left." I don't know--I used to be pretty logical about everything but since last year I have started listening to those urges, prompting, feelings--whatever you want to call it--however I think God's Spirit is the author of what is happening. I've stopped questioning this--because God always is glorified when I tend to listen.
I walked a ways, confirming my suspicions that it was too wet, too cold, and too late. Bridge folks usually head to town before the police come and fine them for trespassing.
There he was. A young kid (although I found out later he was 28) sitting, huddled under the steel bridge. He was cold, shaking, and had his head down. I walked straight to him and he watched me with his eyes. "Hey, how are you," I said. He justed shook his head. "How would you like a hot meal, say--lunch is on me?" I asked.
"You're kidding," he said. He looked as if I was up to something. Maybe he thought I was one of those guys who hangs out downtown wanting to sexually abuse or prostitute young boys. I could understand his skepticism.
"Nope, just a hot meal and you can be on your way."
"Sure," he said.
More tomorrow. But for now--God was right...I was wrong.
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