I was sitting at a Target cafe Thursday. A man in tattered clothing, long hair and beard, with one sock on, both feet crammed into a filthy pair of flipflops was arguing with the cashier about the lack of money on his gift card. Finally he yelled, "I'll just go across the street" and walked out. I followed him. As he was lifting his bike I asked him I could buy him a hot drink. He dropped the bike, shocked, and said, "sure." He followed me back to the cafe where I told him to order what he wanted. He got a hot dog and a red bull. I handed him a couple dollars for later. He was overflowing with gratitude and kept saying thank you. Then I looked down at his feet and said, "Can I buy you some shoes?'"
"No, really, you've done enough."
"But it's cold and you need shoes."
"No, these are fine." One of his ankles was wrapped in tape.
"Please let's go back to the shoe dept and let me get you some shoes."
He refused again. Then he said thanks and walked out, got on his bike and rode away in the cold.
It has been 6 days and I am still haunted by this experience. I would have given him my own shoes if they would have fit him. Why didn't I ask one more time? Why didn't I try harder to convince him to let me buy him shoes?
I don't get it. If my feet were freezing and someone offered to buy me shoes I'd have taken them up on it.
I can't tell you how I know, but I do know that man was Jesus. Was he testing me?