One word made my day, today. One word….spoken while I was….dancing with Jesus.

Not much traffic this morning, until I reached the tollway exit.  Only 2 more lights to traverse before turning into my office.  A long line of cars greeted me at the first one. Three of four red light cycles would ensue.  Ahead, I could see a homeless man slowly wending his way along the line of possible donors.  He carried the standard cardboard sign.  It notified any who didn’t look away that he was a disabled veteran, homeless and hungry.

He’d made his first appearance at this street corner maybe two or three weeks ago.  A newcomer.  During that time, on a few occasions, I’d managed to roll down my motorized window and from my air conditioned comfort handed him a $1 dollar bill. Quite generous of me.  As he graciously accepted my paltry gift, a warm and grateful smile lit up his dripping face.  Houston summers are known for unrelenting heat, humidity and sizzling sunshine, except when it’s pouring down rain.  We chatted each time.  I sincerely wanted to recognize him and engage in pleasantries.

Today, much the same scene played out. I in my comfort, he in the heat.

Sam:  Seems pretty hot today.
Homeless Man:  Yeah. But, it’s not raining.
Sam:  How are you doing today?
Homeless Man:  The Lord is watching over me.
Sam:  I’ve forgotten your name.
Homeless Man:  Ken.
Sam:  Do you remember my name?
Homeless Man:  SAM.

Immediately, a tear graced my eye.  A homeless man, immersed in heat and humidity, remembered MY name.  It touched me deeply.

Aren’t we taught that Jesus knows each of us intimately, loves us dearly, knows us by our name?  Could it be that this soft-spoken homeless man, humbly living and humbly making his living…..was…..Jesus?  He knew my name!  He remembered my name!  He uttered my name!

A few hours later, I walked back to that, now special, intersection. Ken was still there, plying his trade. We talked about his history. His military service.  His injury.  Where he slept.  His plans.  His challenges.  I look forward to seeing my friend again.  He has lifted me more than he knows.  Or maybe he does.

“Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these, ye have done it unto me.”

Today, MY name was spoken while I danced with Jesus.