David

this is a different genre that I am experimenting with. I hope you enjoy it. there may be more to come with this particular story.

A time not too long ago in a place not far from here, there lived a young peasant boy. He was meek and soft-spoken, shy and a little intimidated by the other boys who would often shout and call out for attention. He was a quizzical young lad and often passed the lonely hours watching the other children interact as they pushed and shoved and vied for whatever it was that they wanted. It was not a rare occasion when the boy would lay in his bed looking out through the window at the quivering autumn leaves or the glistening winter stars and wonder about his life and where he belonged in such a great and majestic world. This particular boy's name was David.

Now David was not necessarily the best of boys, but his heart was good. Though he couldn't explain it, it seemed that there was always someone watching out for him. Whenever his curiosity would get the best of him and he would make his way to join in with the other children, he would seemingly always step into a mud puddle – even on a clear day. His foot would get so wet and make him so uncomfortable that he forgot his curiosity and turned to go back home. His mother would ask, "Why did you step in the puddle and get your foot all dirty?" But David felt shame because he knew he had been trying to go and join the other children.

Time passed and David's curiosity turned to resentment against the other kids. He began to think, "They're just bad people. Who cares about them anyway?" But in his heart he felt rejected and lonely and didn't understand why they always seemed to get what they wanted, but every time he wanted to join them, all he got was a dirty foot.

It was around this time that the young man met someone – a very interesting person who David didn't know, but somehow he recognized – from somewhere. He was an elderly man, humble in his blue overalls and his drab, weathered overcoat, and yet dignified. He seemed very gentle and in his eyes there was something different – a warmth, a security. In his hand he held a watering hose with which he watered the flowers along the path.

"I've been watching you since you were young," the man said in a calm yet regal voice. "I've seen how you are curious about the other children. I've seen how you have wanted to join them because you were lonely and wanted to be a part of the fun they were having."

David was somewhat alarmed that this man knew his heart so well – that even though he never actually made it to join the others, he had wanted to and this man knew it.

"Yeah, but every time I tried to join them, I stepped in a puddle – even on a clear day!" David retorted – trying to hide his shame behind an inflection of victimization.

"I know," the man said as he waved the hose back and forth over the flowers.

"I would like to show you something," he continued. "If you are willing, I would like to teach you what I know. I would like to show you who you are and what your purpose is and why you always stepped into the puddles before you were able to join the others."

David looked into the man's eyes with curiosity and skepticism. Since David was a young man who often thought about such things in his life, he was very curious. But how could this man possess such information – the details of David's life? Yet, looking into the man's eyes there was something deeper, something that comforted – it was as if there was a tangible wisdom hidden there that required no defense, no explanation – it just was.

"Uh… o – ok," David hesitantly agreed, "I will come see what you would like to show me."

"Very well. Come, follow me."

And the two walked along the path.

No words were said along the way, although David's mind was racing. It was just his nature to question and wonder, yet his thoughts did not seem to raise doubt in him, only a desire for understanding.

They arrived at a small, unimpressive home. It was old, but well cared for. It had the same sort of welcoming and yet strangely distinguished demeanor that the old man had.

"Take off your shoes," the man instructed, "I need to see your feet."

"Oh, ok," David said, "but I have to tell you, they're still a bit dirty from stepping in those puddles." He was still shameful about his feet, but since the old man already seemed to know about his stepping into puddles, he figured there was no use in trying to hide it from him.

The man squatted down and examined the dirty feet.

"Why didn't you wash them?" the man asked.

"Well, I tried. I actually tried a lot. I used many soaps, hot water, cold water – it just wouldn't come off."

"Uh huh," the man said as he produced a basin of water and began to wipe the boy's feet.

"Hey! The dirt is coming off! But… huh… how…?"

"If you are to be clean, you must let me be the one to wash you."

David was so grateful. He was so tired of having dirty feet. And though no one knew about his feet because they were hidden under his shoes, he knew, and he was ashamed.

"Thank you so much, sir. I never thought I could be clean again."

"You are welcome."

After that, David was somehow changed. His resentment against the other children dissipated. Since his feet were finally clean, he no longer wanted to risk stepping in puddles to go and join the others. In fact, he wanted to tell the others about the man who could wash feet, but this was a harder task than he had thought since the others were so preoccupied with their pushing and shouting. They just couldn't hear David calling from behind the mud puddles. Only those who drifted away from the crowd could hear him and even then, only some wanted to have their feet washed.

Several years went by and the old man would teach David as often as David decided to visit. Some seasons David came nearly every day. Other seasons, he did not come as often. It was during those seasons where he did not visit the old man that he became more and more aware of how he was forfeiting something very precious – something hard to explain, but of great value. When David would regularly go to learn from the man, even though there still were trials at home and at his school, he had a strange peace that gave him happiness. David soon realized that regularly visiting the old man was the most important decision he could make for his life. And so David and the old man spent more and more time together, and they were both glad.

David grew and matured. He trusted the old man and hung on every word – and yet there were many questions that David had that the man did not answer, or else he would give a reply that didn't even seem to fit with his question. One thing that the man would often say to David was, "you are the son of a king." David never really understood this because, as far as he knew, he was born of a pauper – a meager family without much at all. David soon realized that the man was not referring to any sort of wealth or status, but that it was something else that the man was teaching him.

One day David was again going to the house of the old man. He arrived and knocked on the door. It was always unlocked so when no one came to the door, he just walked in. He skipped and hopped along, whistling in a cheery mood just looking at the knick-knacks and trinkets hanging from the walls and decorating the shelves. The man had not come to greet him yet, so he continued his casual exploration.

Down at the end of the hall, David's attention was drawn to a great light that was shining beneath a large wooden door. He cautiously and curiously made his way down the corridor and slowly pushed open the door.

Light poured out of the room as its brilliance nearly knocked David to the floor like a giant wave. He tried to shield his eyes, but it was no use. The glory was terrifying and made David more scared than anything he'd ever seen before.

Just then, the light began to fade and as David's eyes began to adjust, he saw the old man buttoning up his weathered coat and closing a cardboard box.

"Wha - what was that?" David was still trembling. "Wha-what just happened? What's in that box?"

"My son, I have told you many times now about who you are."

"Y- yes," David was trying to regain his composure.

"I am the King."

"I have called you friends."

As the summer days peeled away and the next major phase of my medical education drew nearer, I found myself praying a different sort of prayer. I was leaving a God-sent network of believers, a familiar city, and a world that had seemingly only just become comfortable for me. I knew that I would soon find myself in a constantly shifting merry-go-round of medical rotations where every month I would have to walk into a completely foreign setting and learn quickly where to stand and what to do. I began asking the Lord to go before me in a new way: not only did I desire that He show me himself and that He fill me with courage and peace, but it came to mind to ask the Lord to open the eyes of my heart to be able to recognize who His children were. If I only had a short time in each rotation, I thought it would be encouraging to know if there were other believers and who they were. This has been a very exciting prayer and the Lord's answer has had me both in laughter and in tears.

#1. The Jamaican Lobby Singer

While on my first rotation, Internal Medicine, I had the opportunity to go on a road trip to a couple of nursing homes north of Grand Rapids with my precepting physician. He is a difficult man to read, rarely making eye contact, and generally just not very good at making you feel welcome. He is pleasant, just hard to read. I decided a nice road trip might just be the sort of thing that the Lord wanted to use to get us some good conversation time. So, I agreed to go. (I learned later that I was the first one to ever volunteer to go with this doctor on his visits to the nursing homes – and he has had students for a good long time.) He instructed me to meet him at the hospital lobby at 7:30 am.

It must have been 7:25 or so when I walked out to the lobby. Across the way there was a custodian getting ready to vacuum the carpet. He was black, maybe 6 feet tall, mid 30s. But something else caught my attention. I recall having a thought zip through my mind: "I think this guy is a friend of Jesus." No sooner did the thought leave my mind than this gentleman began to sing! In the middle of the lobby, with his vacuum cleaner in hand, this man began singing some old spirituals – full voice and with a thick Jamaican accent! "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot!" A huge smile exploded on my face. WOW, Lord! He IS one of yours!

As I waited some of the doctors and nurses were entering by the lobby entrance. They would look over at the singing man then pass by where I was sitting. Some wouldn't look at me; others made a look as if to say "what a weird guy… who sings in a hospital lobby??" I just continued to smile.

I made my way to the man.

"You know," I said to this regal custodian, "when I first walked over here I immediately had the feeling that you knew Jesus. As soon as I thought that, you started singing."

"The Lawd bring us togetha like magnets, don't he," he replied with a heavenly smile.

I introduced myself and he told me his name was Morris. We shook hands, very grateful to have met one another and to know yet another one of the Lord's children. I was incredibly inspired by this experience… but this was just the first.

#2. The Kingdom of Heaven Belongs to Such as These

The next month on my pediatrics rotation I was blessed with a great deal of free time. In spite of having to be at the hospital at 6 am every morning to round on the neonates, I often had 2 or 3 hours in the late morning to read or study. I mostly used that time to journal and read the Word. One of these mornings I was sitting alone in the cafeteria reading my Bible. A shadow crossed my table and I looked up to see another custodial man. He was older than Morris – late 40s. He wore glasses and had a slightly lazy eye and a humble smile. He sort of hobbled as he approached me.

"Hello," I said.

"I – I didn't know if I should come over here," he hesitantly stuttered. "I saw you reading. Some- sometimes I – I like to read here too... oh, I – I didn't know you were reading the Bible… o – ok, I don't want to bother you. You are busy."

"Oh, no, my name's Chris," I said.

"Oh- okay. Hi."

I glanced at his name tag. It said: William. "Do you go by Bill?" I asked.

"Yeah – yeah."

"Nice to meet you, Bill."

"Nice to meet you, Chris."

We shook hands.

I could tell that he was still debating in his mind whether he should be talking with me or not. You see, I was wearing a shirt and tie. I had my white coat on with my stethoscope around my neck. I had the "doctor" look going, I guess. I sensed that maybe Bill had been more used to just not being noticed by the "white coats" and so he was awfully nervous to have approached me. And so he waved and cautiously stepped backward. "O – ok, well, ok." And he went back to his table.

Not many days later, I saw Bill again on the OB floor. I was rounding with the doctor, an intern, and another medical student. We passed by Bill with his cleaning cart in the corridor.

"Hi, Bill," I said.

He looked up and waved, smiling.

"O – ok, Hi," he replied in the same reluctant manner as before in the cafeteria. My doc was on the move, and so I was unable to chat with Bill at that moment.

After finishing the rounds with the doctor, I was making my way to the elevator and I passed him again.

"Well, we're getting to see a lot of each other, aren't we!" I said.

"I – I didn't know if I should say hi before. You were busy and with the doctor and …"

"Of course you can say hi to me, Bill," I interrupted.

He smiled, saying his okays and his hesitance seemed to be dissipating.

"See you around, Bill."

Bill and I now run into each other at least several times a week and we always have a brief little chat – just an encouragement for each other or a friendly "Hi, Bill!" "Hi, Chris!"

Though this story is not quite as "supernatural" as my encounter with Morris, I include it here almost as a sequel to the story of Victor whom I wrote about in "A Friday Afternoon with a King." I had learned from Victor that Jesus often shows up in the unnoticed people and I surely don't ever want to miss him.

#3. "I'd like you to meet my friend…."

This month I'm doing a family practice/OMM rotation at the resident clinic. I've had a great deal more time with patients and I have been feeling more and more comfortable with my history and physical skills. Since there are fewer opportunities to escape to be with the Lord on this rotation, I have been trying to use my lunch hours.

One noon hour, I decided to get some Taco Bell. I ordered my lunch and sat at a table in the corner. As I was journaling and reading some Zechariah, a man walked in. He was bald, maybe late 40s or early 50s, and was dressed in the clothes of a journeyman. At first I thought I recognized him so I continued to watch him waiting for him to turn around. When he did, I realized that I did not know him. Yet I was drawn to him.

"Lord, is this like Morris? Is he one of yours? Do you have any words for him that you'd like me to share with him?"

I started praying for the man and wrestled in my mind as to whether my thoughts were from the Lord or from myself.

The man got his food and started making his way over to the table right next to mine. As it was about time for me to be leaving, I was packing up my stuff. I grabbed my bag as he went to sit down. I was very nervous (it still gets me a little trembly to give words to strangers.) I made eye contact with him and we both paused for a moment. I hesitated, but knew it was now or never.

"I started praying for you when you walked in. I felt that the Lord said that you were very close to him."

"Yes, I am." He replied.

"And He is walking with you today."

"Thank you." He smiled.

I was still so nervous that I somewhat hurriedly smiled, nodded and left.

As I walked to my car, his reply echoed in my head: "Yes, I am." "Yes, I am."

Now, as I sat in my car, I lost it. I just started crying. At the moment I didn't really even know why. I'm not really an overly emotional person, but the Lord had touched me right there. I came to realize something, though: it wasn't just the fact that the Lord had used me to give a small word of encouragement to this man… this was something I had never felt before ---

Have you ever had a friend that you thought was much cooler than you? Someone you just were honored that they noticed you and that they said "hi"? Maybe a bit how Bill was feeling at first with me? How would you feel, then, if that friend who you thought was so cool – so much higher-class than you – introduced you to another one of his friends? As if he were proud enough of you that he would introduce you to another one of his cool friends.

Well, this is the best way I can explain what I felt there in my car. I felt that the Lord had just introduced me to another one of his friends – like he was pleased to have me encounter one of his best friends. It really broke me down. God, who is so much cooler than me actually wanted me to meet one of his cool friends – a man whose eyes possessed depth – the sparkle from years of sacrifice and depending on the Lord. Of course, the Lord has blessed me with knowing so many of his children. But I had never realized what a true honor and privilege it is to know another believer – one of God's children – one of his best friends.

And so, through Morris, Bill, and the man at Taco Bell, the Lord has been graciously and powerfully answering my prayer – my prayer that he would open my eyes to see who his people are. I really believe that this is a prayer that the Lord wants to answer for us all. I believe that as times get rougher and the end draws nearer, the Lord will be increasingly pouring out His Spirit and we will be more and more dependent on Him for many things – this being just one. Imagine how incredible will it be when we can walk into a room of strangers and by the Spirit know which ones are the friends of God!