Entertaining Angels

Hey there, it's Erica, remembering... At church one cold evening in December, my husband and I noticed a man sitting in front of us who somehow stood out. He was wearing an expensive ski coat, his salt-and-pepper hair was brushed back, and he stood in a distinguished fashion. As the last worship song played his broad shoulders shook a little. He cried quietly and my heart went out to him. I'm not an outgoing person, so I struggled. What should I say? How to approach a total stranger? Would God provide words? I fought with myself, thinking, praying. As I did, the man stood up and walked out of the sanctuary. I summoned my courage, reciting what I'd say and do. I planned to get a cup of coffee, hand it to him and strike up a conversation. If he was leaving I wanted him to go knowing that somebody had cared for him. I nervously poured the coffee, took a deep breath and walked over. At the last moment everything I'd planned to say dissipated, leaving just two words. "God Bless," I said and placed the cup in his hands.

I looked up at his face, and the assumptions I'd made about him vanished. The man's eyes were deep brown, his face lined with years of hard living. He smiled, revealing many missing teeth. The expensive ski coat was a cast-off, patched with duct tape and frayed at the sleeves. It was obvious this gentleman had come in from the streets where he lived to feel warmth and love for just a few minutes before returning to his harsh reality. I was speechless, overcome by love. But words weren't needed; he did not understand English and the two words I'd spoken would suffice. I slipped back into the sanctuary and sat down in time to hear the pastor read from Hebrews, 13:2. "Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some people have entertained angels without knowing it." Tears poured.

I went home worried about the man. Would he make it through the winter? There was no way to find him. I prayed that somehow I would know he was all right. Several weeks later, a friend and I went downtown for pizza. Being allergic to wheat, I don't get pizza often and there are few places that offer a crust that I can eat. We were on our way back to the car, bearing leftover pizza that I was looking forward to eating for lunch the next day. As we neared the car, a homeless man approached us with an open palm. I wanted to walk by so badly...I had no change to give him, only this rare gluten-free pizza in a box. Reluctantly I handed to box to the man, with the words "God Bless." As he took the box, our eyes met...and the recognition on both our faces took my breath away. I went home knowing that God uses such simple things as coffee, leftover pizza and two simple words... to entertain angels.

Post written by Erica Hale.