But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came to where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him
I haven't been making notes in this journal for a while, but i found this to be rather important, on account of the fact that such as this has never happened to me before.
I waited around my place most of the evening (that is, since i returned from serving hours) untill about 10, when my Dad finally got home from D's, and he waltzed in merrily. As he did this, i asked him for my allowance, that i may be off with it to put gas in my car, who was quite destitute at that particular moment. My father gave me half of my allowance so that i could do so, and i took Kane and Lynch with me, so that i could return it.
I got to the gas station quickly, and went in, where the rather ugly lady who works there was ranting about some fellow who seemed to be an all around worthless slob, while the black man who took my cash nodded and mmhmm'd. As i returned to my car, a man with a gas can was walking up to the station, and he addressed me, asking for a dollar. This is no problem, i've got a whole pile of ones in my pocket, and I handed him two. I put my twenty in my tank, and the fellow comes back out and puts his gallon in the can. He then addresses me again, thanking me, and asks me if i could give him a lift.
I know the dangers of allowing strangers into your car, and i knew that any manner of thing could end up happening to me. I decided to take my chances, and told him it was no problem. He climbed in, and I drove him up to his place, which is right near Sparkleberry Crossing, maybe 5 miles at most from the gas station.
As we drive, he opens up, and tells me his name is Mike, and that he'd grown up around here, graduated from SV, and that his daughter goes there. Taylor Kneely. I told him i'd heard the name before, which i had, but i couldn't put a face to the name. At any rate, i drop him at his place, shake his hand, and drive on home.
It's strange. Not because i expected anything to happen, not because i couldn't imagine a random guy in my car, but because of the swiftness with which prayer can be answered.
When you send up a prayer to God with all of you heart, telling Him to use you in whatever way He wishes, and that very next day, He uses you, that's an amazing feeling. I wasn't specific. I just asked to do His work.
I didn't help that man because i felt like i had to. I just did it. It seemed like the right thing to do. I wasn't afraid at all. I didn't talk to him about God, I didn't go and evangelise to someone i've just met, but I do think that God was satisfied with what I had done.
He may have been a redneck born and bred in blythwood, but he was a man in need. I'm glad i was able to alieviate that need.
I waited around my place most of the evening (that is, since i returned from serving hours) untill about 10, when my Dad finally got home from D's, and he waltzed in merrily. As he did this, i asked him for my allowance, that i may be off with it to put gas in my car, who was quite destitute at that particular moment. My father gave me half of my allowance so that i could do so, and i took Kane and Lynch with me, so that i could return it.
I got to the gas station quickly, and went in, where the rather ugly lady who works there was ranting about some fellow who seemed to be an all around worthless slob, while the black man who took my cash nodded and mmhmm'd. As i returned to my car, a man with a gas can was walking up to the station, and he addressed me, asking for a dollar. This is no problem, i've got a whole pile of ones in my pocket, and I handed him two. I put my twenty in my tank, and the fellow comes back out and puts his gallon in the can. He then addresses me again, thanking me, and asks me if i could give him a lift.
I know the dangers of allowing strangers into your car, and i knew that any manner of thing could end up happening to me. I decided to take my chances, and told him it was no problem. He climbed in, and I drove him up to his place, which is right near Sparkleberry Crossing, maybe 5 miles at most from the gas station.
As we drive, he opens up, and tells me his name is Mike, and that he'd grown up around here, graduated from SV, and that his daughter goes there. Taylor Kneely. I told him i'd heard the name before, which i had, but i couldn't put a face to the name. At any rate, i drop him at his place, shake his hand, and drive on home.
It's strange. Not because i expected anything to happen, not because i couldn't imagine a random guy in my car, but because of the swiftness with which prayer can be answered.
When you send up a prayer to God with all of you heart, telling Him to use you in whatever way He wishes, and that very next day, He uses you, that's an amazing feeling. I wasn't specific. I just asked to do His work.
I didn't help that man because i felt like i had to. I just did it. It seemed like the right thing to do. I wasn't afraid at all. I didn't talk to him about God, I didn't go and evangelise to someone i've just met, but I do think that God was satisfied with what I had done.
He may have been a redneck born and bred in blythwood, but he was a man in need. I'm glad i was able to alieviate that need.