Raindrops gently tapped on the windshield of my car. The sweet fragrance of pine trees filled the air long before the first drops fell. I turned off the audio book and enjoyed the sound of the incoming rain. Events of the past couple of days quietly began tiptoeing back into my mind, as the wipers tapped out a hypnotic rhythm.
My husband Doc and I spent the last three days in New York. During the day, he went to his conference, and I went to the museums and did some shopping. In the evenings, we would come together at restaurants to share stories and treasures of the day. Enjoying food from other countries is one of my favorite things to do in New York.
Our last night there, we had dinner on a terrace looking over the East River, as the sun slid behind the Manhattan skyline. After dinner, about eleven o’clock, we decided to walk the Brooklyn bridge. It was close to midnight and filled with people when we reached the other side. What an incredible sight to see the lights of the city from the bridge. I marveled, too, at the many cultures that were all crossing the bridge with us. I began to think how small we all are in the big scheme of things. How can just one person make a difference in a world so large?
After we walked the bridge, we looked for an ice cream shop, because, after all this is the city that never sleeps! On one block, I noticed a young man in jeans and tee-shirt talking to three men who seemed about his age. The three young men had blue hair groomed up into a tall spike at the top of their head, pierced lips and tattoos up their arms. From their ears hung multiple earrings.
The conversation from the one in jeans caught my attention.
“Jesus love you, man! He knows that He has made you to be a beautiful person. He loves you so much that HE threw Himself under the bus to save you! He did it by dying on a cross, man.” The three men with tall blue hair were not moving. They were listening, and a cool breeze gently blows the tops of their hair.
My thoughts about this street scene were interrupted by the rain coming down harder. This is how we make a difference in the world. We do it one person at a time. We do it from our place in the world. We make a difference in the grocery store, by volunteering at schools and shelters and soup kitchens. We do it by bringing neighbors food and clothing the poor. Each person taking a stand for Christ on the soil beneath their feet.
I whispered a prayer for the young man and the men he was ministering to. Father, bless his street ministry and increase it one hundred-fold. Please raise up more like him…beginning with me.
“And he said unto them, Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature.” (Mark 16:15 KJV)
Latest posts by Diane W. Bailey (see all)
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Diane, I like your description of the rain, esepcailly the fragrance of the rain .. although I'm not sure if you can smell it. But its poetic.
so so good!!!!!!!!!!Thanks
Thank you for coming by Barb and for you kind words.
Oh Diane… you opened the flood gates. How beautifully you have written this account of your 3-days in NY. It’s so awesome to see such heart and passion for those who are less fortunate. We busy ourselves so that we forget there is a dying and oppressed world out there in our midst. Thank-you for bringing back to the forefront of my mind that there are those in need of our intercessory prayer, as well as those in need of our time and love. Blessing to you, friend! I hope your weekend is full of rest and replenishment…
Marisa. I always love your comments.
“He threw himself under the bus for you…” What a picture you’ve painted here, and those words are going to stick with me a while.
“He threw himself under the bus to save you…” What a beautiful picture you’ve painted here, and those words are going to stick with me a while…
Thank you Jennifer, your comment are so dear to me.
I’ve enjoyed reading your articles. You have a gift of showing, instead of telling, and the reader identifies with your thoughts. Keep up the good work!