Kevin, the Angel

The night was uncomfortably warm and no air moved in the city that night. As I drove home to my apartment on north 20th street, Rich Mullins sang to me about the color green. The AC was on the fritz so I rolled down the window and the familiar smell of stale beer greeted me. It was the aftershave of downtown Milwaukee and I had grown used to it by now. I lived on the third floor of a old brick building. It wasn't much to look at, but it has a garage underneath where I could park my car and feel somewhat safe. I saw him standing near the driveway and, as I pulled up to enter the code for the garage door, he approached the car.

He was a young man, maybe 18 years old. He had a bird's nest of hair on his head and his clothes bore the fatigue of a couple days wear. "Excuse me, Sir," he said, "Are you a Christian?" I had lived long enough in the city to have endured my share of questions from strangers, but this was the first time anyone had asked me this. "Yes, I am," I said, "Why do you ask?" "I saw the cross hanging from your rear view mirror as you pulled up." I had completely forgotten about that little item (insert irony here). As he came closer to the care, the ambiant light from the garage revealed to me that he had been crying. These weren't fake tears either, this guy has been through something real and had paid dearly for the experience. "Are you OK?" I asked. "No, not really," he answered. "Hold on a minute," I said. I parked my car safely in the garage and came back outside. He was still standing right where I had left him.

We began to talk and in the next moments he revealed to me that several members of his family had been killed in an automobile accident. He had come to Milwaukee to go to school, but he needed to return to his home in Chicago. I kept expecting him to ask me for money like all the other hard-luck strangers I had met, but he didn't. After some time of sitting on the front steps of my building engrossed in conversation, I asked him if I could help him get home. He said that he would greatly appreciate any assistance. At that, I invited him to walk the five blocks to the nearest money machine. On the way I asked if he knew who Jesus was and he shared with me that his grandmother had taken him to church as a boy. As we walked I shared my testimony with him and he graciously listened to my story.

When we arrived at the bank I entered the secure booth that housed the ATM and took out $15.00. He had told me that all he needed was $11.35 to have enough for bus fare to Chicago. I gave him the money I had withdrawn so that he would have some for food as well. It was at this point that he shook my hand and hugged me. From the way he smelled, I could tell that he hadn't bathed in days, but somehow I knew that his embrace was genuine. I told him, "Goodbye," and turned to make sure I had closed the door to the bank booth. Not five seconds later I turned to where he had been standing, fully expecting to see him walking away, and he was gone. I immediately ran several yards in every direction. I checked in every store and restaurant, but he was nowhere to be found.

Scripture says that we are to show God's love to everyone, because we never know when we may be entertaining angels in disguise. I will always believe in my heart that Kevin was an angel. And I learned that night that I need to be available for God to use me at any point in time to show his love to this tired, hungry, smelly world. Let me encourage you to always be ready to share his love as well. You'll be glad you did.

Be God's
Greg