What's your name?

My mom decided to pull over at a rest stop on our drive down to Oregon... My daughter and I playfully skipped and ran to the restroom, then stopped suddenly.

I looked at him but held her hand tight and said nothing, whisking her into the bathroom.  I looked at him again on our way out.

I had held her tight not out of fear but remembrance. Just being at a rest area made me nauseated. She was too young to remember...

There he sat hunched over with a sign indicating he was homeless. He wasn't like other people pan-handling. His head was burried in his arms, as if in shame.

Memories flooded my mind back to when I had been in his shoes, my children and I were still with their father at the time and living at truck stops, rest areas, even Wal-mart parking lots in a beat up old RV...

I asked my mom if we had any food left. Snapple and banana in hand, I made my way back over to the guy sitting outside the restroom.

"Hey..." I knelt down and he looked up at me. His face spoke of exhaustion, fear and embarrass ment.

"I don't have any money to give you..." I said truthfully as once childcare is taken out of my checking account I will have exactly ten dollars left before pay day.  "Are you hungry?"

He nodded and took the banana and Snapple.

"I um, I have-" I started to choke and he could see tears starting to form in my eyes. I fought them back and started again. "I have been homeless and I just wanted to, um, let you know it gets better okay?" I said as I put my hand on his shoulder quickly but firmly.

I asked him his name. His eyes were tearing up as he told me his name.

"Well I'm gonna pray for you ok?" He nodded as I stood up.  "But it gets better, just want you to know that."

"Thank you. God bless you," he responded. Memories and tears were getting too hard too fight back, people who had been talking near us had stopped and were staring. I put my sweatshirt hood up over my head and jogged back to the car.

Sure, he could be a con. He could be an addict. He could be an abuser. He could be a number of things. Yet having been in "that boat" I know all too well the judgments & opinions of others. I also knew what it is like to be homeless. I remember the kindness of strangers.

God got me out of my bad situation. Most people have no clue. I dress nice. I look professional, even successful. I have a home, two jobs, my kids have real beds, we have so much we are thankful for.

I am a living testimony of the grace of God and power of prayer of others. I know what it is like to live in impossible situations and get out, be free and seeing dreams become reality.

I told that kid/young man the truth, as I speak from firsthand experience, it gets better. It really does. Keep your eyes up, feel the prayers of strangers for you and believe. It gets better friends, hang in there.

If you need prayer comment or message me and I will pray for you.