Suppressing my emotions as our daughter was disappearing, we turned our minds to this man’s needs.
Yesterday, as Karen and I sent our daughter from DFW airport to work with Afghan refugee children, a man came up asking for bus fare from the airport to Cleburne to see his mother.
We don’t really carry cash any more, so we were at a loss. He kindly walked away.
Another man walked up and gave us two waters as he couldn’t take them through security.
We watched our girl go.
Then I remembered someone recently gave me a $50 bill, which I stuck in my phone.
I chased the poor man down as he walked away. I gave him the bill. He started rejoicing, saying he could now see his mother and get a good meal, too.
I blessed him in the name of Jesus.
He stopped and said, “I believe in Jesus. I have Him with me, too.” Then he raised his shirt.
As several passersby stared in shock, the poor man revealed this large, intricate, and well-drawn tattoo of Jesus crowned and hanging on the cross emblazoned on his chest and side.
It was a light-hearted moment for me in the midst of a difficult time as I mourned my daughter.
I hope this poor man’s mother was glad to see her son. She is sick, and they had not seen each other for awhile. I know we will be glad to see our daughter again. In that, we were the same.
I will never forget the poor man with Jesus emblazoned all over his chest.
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