(If you haven’t read “A Helping Hand, Pt. I” you can find it here.)

For the past three days, I’ve woken up at 5:30am. No reason. It was like a switch went off, and Boom. I’m up.

Usually I have a quiet time at 6:30am. Read the Bible, pray, read a devotional book, memorize scripture, etc. . So when I woke up an hour early, I just kinda shrugged my shoulders. “Okay, Lord. You want me to start early? Not a problem.” (Thankfully, Kyler’s in Colorado this week visiting grandparents, which means I only have to watch after Kaleb during the day. And Kaleb? He takes a lot of naps. So I was able to make up for my loss at a point later in the day.)

When I got an e-mail from Brandon, our LifeHouse leader, saying a new men’s group was meeting at 6:00am on Wednesday, my first thought was one of disgust. “What? Get up at an ungodly hour for fellowship? I don’t think so.” Then the bell inside my head rang. “Hey. Idiot. You’ve been waking up at 5:30am this week anyway. Ya think there’s a reason?”

Hmph. So I resisted dismissing the notion as the craziness that it was, and made a deal with myself. “Self,” I said. “If I wake up at 5:30am once again tomorrow, I’ll go to the group thing.” (Yes, I could hear my self chuckling softly in the background.)

Because at 5:30am the next day, I woke myself up. Or rather, my self woke me up. Whatever. I was awake. And disturbed. I had a hard time falling asleep the night before, and ended up snarfing down a bowl of Life cereal at midnight in the hopes that it would help knock me out. Instead, it helped blimp my butt and other hidden fat crevices.

Anyhow, I was awake. And confused. And warm and cozy in bed. So I chalked it up to coincidence and rolled over. And lay there. For 10 minutes. Wide awake. Then I stared at the ceiling for another 5. Finally I stopped trying to analyze WHY IN THE WORLD I WAS AWAKE AT 5:30 IN THE MORNING, fell out of bed and got dressed.

On the way to the group (meeting at a nearby IHOP), I prayed that God would accomplish whatever His will was that morning. I REALLY wanted to believe there was a profound reason for waking me up so early. Maybe I was supposed to be spiritually and profoundly ‘blessed” by what one of the other guys had to say. Or perhaps I was gonna bless someone else. Who knew? But I was open to whatever, so I committed it into His hands.

Nothing happened. The guys were great, the food was good, the conversation was uplifting and the like, but nothing profound or earth-shattering happened. I’m usually a quiet guy in a group anyway, but at 6:00am? I practically blended in with the wallpaper.

So we wrapped the group up, paid our bills and walked out, parting ways. As I’m getting into my car, I look across the parking lot to see a man approach Brandon’s truck. He talked for a few seconds, and Brandon handed him a few bills. As I kept staring, I suddenly realized why I was so transfixed. I recognized the guy talking to him.

It was the same guy I handed $20 to on Monday night.

So when Brandon was done talking and the guy was walking away, I waved him over to me. He trotted over with a grin on his face, which quickly fell into wide-eyed shock as he got closer.

“Heyyy,” he said nervously, “It’s you! How you doin’?”

“I’m good. How’re you?”

“I’m okay, man, I’m doing okay.”

“So, what do you need money for this time?”

“Ah, my wife. She needs her insulin, and we only need $6.00 more to pay for it.”

“Uh-huh.” I stared at him for a few seconds, a smirk forming across my face. “So, did you make it?”

“What?”

“To Huntsville. Did you actually go there?”

“Oh, yeah man. We went there…”

“And you’re already back?”

“Yeah, we’re back…”

“Hey, do you happen to have your driver’s license on you?”

He paused. “What?”

“Can I see your driver’s license?”

“My… oh, MAN! You don’t believe me!!”

“No, I don’t,” I said, smiling.

“You think I’m lying!”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Man….” he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. Then he shows me his license. The city? Huntsville, TX.

Yes, I was surprised. But still not finished with the conversation.

I looked up at him. “Do you believe in God?” I asked.

“Absolutely. I do believe in God.”

“And… you remember what I said? About the money I gave you?”

“Yes, sir, I do. An’ that money is a BLESSING, not a curse!” he said insistently.

“Good. Do you have a job?”

“What?”

“Do you have a job?”

“Yessir, I do. I’m a truck driver.”

“You’re a truck driver?”

“Well, I’m not working right now, but I start next week.”

“Uh-huh.”

At that point I let him know that I wasn’t going to give him anymore money, because I just didn’t believe he was telling me the truth. He accepted that, and was about to leave when I asked him his name.

“Cecil,” he said.

“Cecil,” I said, extending my hand, “It was good to talk with you.”

He took my hand, “You, too.”

“And what’s your wife’s name?”

“Melissa.”

“Well, I hope she gets what she needs.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I’ll see you around, Cecil.”

“Okay, then.” And he walked back across the parking lot.

When I drove around the back of the building, he saw me driving by and waved me over. He pointed to his car – parked over by a hotel – and said I could talk to Melissa if I wanted to verify his story. I told him that wasn’t necessary, and we waved good-bye.

And that’s the second part of my story.

My initial thoughts? I was kind of blown away by it all. I mean, I had hoped there was a reason for God’s waking me up so early, but I NEVER imagined something like this. It was surreal, really.

Contrary to what you might think, I wasn’t mad at him. I wasn’t really even hurt from the other night. I felt… compassion. The guy was obviously living out of his car. With a wife and possibly a child (whoever Angela is). And he’s found himself in a situation where he’s having to panhandle for money, probably just to feed himself and his family.

Suddenly, all the indignation that I felt because he didn’t use my $20 to buy gas immediately on Monday night… melted away. It has now occurred to me that there might have been other, more IMPORTANT things that he needed to buy.

But then why would he lie? Why would he say he went to Huntsville? (Which, it turns out, is down by Houston. A good 8 hours away. That would have been some marathon trip, driving down on Monday night only to make it back here by dawn on Wednesday.)

So on the one hand, I’m wary because he’s consistently lied to me and I don’t feel I can trust him. But on the other hand, I really want to do more to help him out. I actually drove around this morning (after dropping Kaleb off at Parent’s Day Out), looking for his car. I wanted to buy them breakfast. All of them. However many there were. I wanted to put them up in a hotel for a night or two, so they could rest. Take a shower. Whatever.

I don’t know how someone becomes homeless. I don’t. I’m skeptical because I think a lot of it comes down to pride. I’ve always believed that homeless people end up where they are not just from making poor decisions, but also because they didn’t want to ask for help from the people they needed to. The people they COULD have. Family, friends, government associations. A part of me thinks homeless people would rather live in squalor than humble themselves and admit to whomever that they were wrong, that they made a mistake.

Couldn’t he get a job somewhere? A construction job holding a sign, a Wienerschitzel mascot, a telemarketer. He’s obviously smart and capable. So what’s the deal?

I don’t want to be judgmental about it. I don’t want to make assumptions and fill in the blanks with my own creative mind. I want to believe that a person can make a better life for himself, given a second chance and an opportunity.

Someday I hope to find out. Lubbock’s a small town, and I think the chances are good that I’ll see him again. I want to get to know him, to cut through the barriers and help him.

More than anything, I just pray that he and Melissa find the answers they need. That they find God, and experience Him in a way they never knew was possible. And if God used my words or presence that morning to communicate something to Cecil, something I’m missing? Then I hope it sinks in. Because if this wasn’t a divine appointment, I don’t know what is.

Praying for His Will,

Kevin

P.S. On a side note, God let me sleep in until 7:00am this morning. And it felt WONDERFUL. Still, I plan to get up early next Wednesday. Just in case there’s someone I’m supposed to talk to.

The verse I read today:

Luke 6:38

“Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”