While my daughters were waiting to get some teriyaki chicken at the Farmer’s Market, I happened to strike up a conversation with a wild-haired homeless man wearing cool sunglasses…

“Hey man, you know Jesus loves you?” I asked as he approached.

“Yeah”, he replied, “you told me before.”

“I did?”

“You know, I hear voices,” he explained. “At the courtroom I heard them… I was abused at the McMartin Preschool and the Manhattan Beach cops didn’t listen and…”

“You know that Jesus died on a cross for your sins…”

As he rambled on I looked over my shoulder to make sure that my girls were okay standing in line.

“Yeah, no one listened and they were all against me and-”

“He was buried for three days and rose again,” I continued.

“So, the voices I heard were all saying the same thing, and I’m not sure that..”

I interrupted, “Hey sorry. I have to get my girls.”

“YOU DON”T CARE!!!”

“Huh?”

“YOU DON’T CARE ABOUT WHAT I’M SAYING!!! He stormed away.

He was right. I didn’t care. I wanted to get my daily “Evangelistic Adventure” out of the way. What’s the point of doing this if I don’t care?

***

Q: What would you have done in the same circumstance with the responsibility of looking after two little kids in a busy market place? I want to know. E-mail me. [email protected]

***

Look up, Steve