When You’re in Love with a Ludicrous Savior (and the Googly-eyed Give-away Winner!)

Earlier this week, I shared the story of Daisy, a desperate woman planted on a street corner in my middle-class town.

It’s a humbling tale filled with embarrassing tears, floundering fears, and awkward hugs; a brief glimpse of what can happen despite us if we simply allow Christ to love through us. (If you haven’t had a chance to read that story, you can find it here).

But that’s not all. 

What I haven’t told you yet, is that the story of Daisy is also the tale of another desperate woman. It’s the story of a good Christian girl who is desperate for a glimpse of the real Jesus.  And I love the way that my very real Jesus used a young millennial to remind me that He doesn’t just see the hunger in our stomachs, but He also sees the hunger in our souls.

So, if you have a minute, I’d love to tell you what happened in the parking lot after I prayed with Daisy on top of that dingy mound of melting snow.

You see, when I followed my Savior to the street corner on that first day of spring, I was well-aware that I was totally incapable of meeting the gaping needs of a homeless beggar. What  could a new-to-town-stay-at-home-mom with two dollars in her pocket do for a life-worn woman in need of work? 

To be honest, that’s what made God’s directive feel so ridiculous.

If I’d had a hundred dollar bill in my pocket, my Lord’s command to go back and minister to His broken beloved on the street corner might have made more sense. 

But lately, I’ve been learning this plain and simple truth– I’m in love with a ludicrous Savior.

There’s nothing sensible about the Perfect Son of God  hanging on a criminal’s cross in my place, and there’s nothing reasonable about His inviting me to lose my life so I might find it.

Quite honestly, the mysterious ways of an infinite God’s don’t always make sense to the finite minds of His dust-made children.

So, I’d followed Him  to that street corner, and I’d offered what I had- two dollars and a bumbling prayer.

Then I’d sloshed back through the snow-stacked parking lot and slid into the comfort of my own van, relieved that the story was over…

Until someone started rapping on the fogged-up window of my van.

Startled, I turned my head to see a young professionally-dressed woman. My stomach dropped while my mind raced. 

Was I parked illegally? Had I done something wrong? Was it against the law in this pristine town to give money to a beggar? 

I opened the van door and slid out of my warm leather seat.I’d barely planted my feet back on the murky wet pavement when the young woman blurted out, “I saw what you just did…”  

A piece of shiny brown hair had slipped out of her ponytail and dangled haphazardly in front of her big chocolate eyes, but I could see tears brimming behind that fly-away strand. 

“What’s your name and what church do you go to?” she asked, her I words fraught with urgency.

I  stared wordlessly at the young woman, trying to make sense of our odd encounter.

I extended my hand to shake hers and replied,”My name’s Alicia, and I’m new to town….I don’t have a church home yet…”

She looked at the ground, obviously disappointed.

I grasped for words, feeling like I had let her down.  “I don’t belong to a church here, but I do love Jesus.”

The young woman lifted her head and cast me a shy smile, her eyes alight with understanding. 

Then she looked over her shoulder at the woman with the cardboard sign behind us and she asked in an incredulous whisper, “What made you do that?” 

We both knew she was talking about my brief moment on the street corner, but for some reason, I said, “Do what?“

“Park your car and go pray with that lady….”

I shrugged my shoulders, feeling awkward and embarrassed for the second time that day.“Well,” I replied with a slight giggle, “Jesus can just be so pushy sometimes!”

She nodded, her lips curling in a subtle smirk. And then, right there in the parking lot,with traffic streaming by, she spilled her story.

She told me about growing up in the church and going to Bible study, attending a good Christian college and socializing with nice Christian friends. 

And she spoke of always longing for more. 

She told of feeling disappointed over and over again because she couldn’t find anybody with a faith that reached beyond the church pews, of wanting to know the Jesus of the Bible, not the watered-down Savior whom she’d met through her pastor’s sermons and her friends’ lukewarm lives.

I listened, feeling her disappointment in the pit of my stomach. And I had no idea what to say in response. 

Finally, she took a ragged breath and tried to explain why she’d rapped on my window in the first place.  “I’ve always wanted to do something like you did today. ‘Cause, I think that’s what Jesus would do. But I’ve never been brave enough…”

She raised her eyebrows and finished, “So, when I saw you praying with that woman on the corner, I pulled into the parking lot and  thought if I could just figure out what church you attended, I’d go there, too, so maybe someday I could do what you did.”

Maggie was hollering from the mini-van, out of patience with her street-corner-praying, parking-lot-loitering mom. So I gave the earnest young woman a quick hug and said, “You don’t have to go to a certain church or be unusually courageous to do what I did…”

I watched as three cars drove by the corner, their eyes veering away from the cardboard sign and its carrier. “You just need to trust Jesus knows what He’s doing even when you’ve got no idea what He’s up to!”

The sweet twenty-something laughed and returned my hug, then I slipped back into the driver’s seat and waved goodbye. 

“Mom-mm-yyyy,” Maggie whined from her perch on her car seat. “Who was that girl knocking on our window?”

I winked at my preschooler in the rearview mirror and said, “Just someone that Jesus knew needed a little encouragement today.”

“‘Couragement?” Maggie asked in a goofy voice, like she was trying to make a joke. “You mean, like she needed some more braveness?” 

I veered into traffic, passing that street corner where Daisy stood, and I laughed at my daughter’s attempt at word play.

Then as I turned the van toward home, I thanked my great big God for taking a two-dollar step of faith and turning it into a priceless gift of grace for a young woman who just needed a little extra braveness on the first day of spring.

 ***************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Dear friends, thanks to all of you who shared your stories and prayer requests earlier this week. As promised, I put all of your names in a big bowl and chose one lucky reader as the winner of my googly-eyed-give-away.

Here’s a glimpse of the  winner-choosing-ceremony that Josh, Maggie, and I conducted in our front yard this morning…. 

  

Congratulations, Gina Julian !

You are the winner of your very own package of googly-eyes and this BEAUTIFUL print donated by Jennifer at Studio JRU. Thanks for spending time here at the Overflow with me. 

(And for those of you who want a print of your very own to inspire your faith and decorate your walls, visit Jennifer’s online store  or connect with her on Facebook or Instagram

You’ll LOVE her original pieces inspired by the Word and her love for our ludicrous Savior!)