" I use drugs... You use Jesus"

We sat together outside of mcdonalds on bloor street downtown.
Fluffy hair tucked under a toque, styrofoam cup in hand for change.
Cigarette tucked loosely between his engaging smile.

His genuine kindness, and his gentle laid back attitude made him comfortable to be around.

He freely shared bits and pieces of his story. I appreciated his authenticity, and consistency in checking in with me every so often to make sure I was tracking with him. 

Lost childhood, jail in his teen years, unhealthy role models and influences, strongholds of drugs and alcohol in his life. He had seen much darkness.

I asked him what he felt like when he was on drugs. He seemed to enjoy my innocence, and switched into teaching mode careful to make it relatable for me kindly.

He described the feelings as that of sinking into a hot bubble bath in an atmosphere of candles lit. A feeling of escape, letting go, peace and comfort.

He went a step further. Relating it to the feeling I would experience being in the presence of God. At peace.

" We use different mediums to get that feeling. I use drugs you use Jesus". He stated nonchalantly.
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    This man is searching. It was clear through our whole conversation. He was wrestling, confused, and unsure.
He clearly understood me as I shared my faith, and the hope that I have found in Christ, he seemed happy that I had found what I was looking for. 

He just couldn't get there for himself.

Please pray for him, and so many like him on the streets in Toronto. People who are using other
 " mediums"to fill that emptiness, and meet their needs. May they come to see that Jesus is what they really need.

" A damn drunk, a bum"

     
     Furrowed brow hunched down in his seat, serious stern face, gruff voice, then a bright smile.

There is an intensity to him, as he often speaks in hushed tones leaning in real close to peer into your eyes, then erupting very suddenly in a yell... then back to hushed tones. 

" Who is God"? he asks angrily, almost testing me it seemed, with a small hint of sadness in his eyes. This small but profound sentence proceeded to lead us into a deep very meaningful conversation.

He spoke of his burden in regards to all the bad he had done, and the fact he sometimes felt God was choosing not to save him until he became better. He was tired of confessing. 

His eyes were striking, he didn't break contact with mine. So open, so honest with his struggles as he hashed it out. 

I asked him quietly how he thought God saw him. My heart aching for his answer.

He paused thoughtfully, emphasizing every syllable gazing intently at me before speaking. 

" A damn drunk, a bum".

I was about to respond, when what he said next surprised me.

" Thats why Jesus came though you know, for damn drunks and bums".

God has been showing me his heart for those who recognize their need for him. 
I believe that he longs for and desires a relationship with the homeless, the misfits, the addicts, those prostituting,the transgendered, the mentally ill...

I believe he has hope for them, he wants to save them. He longs for them to know his deep, real love for them.

I can get so fixated on people's situations, their pains, their struggles, their sins, their traumas, I begin to think they need to change before they can be saved, and have a real relationship with God.

The truth is he takes us as we are, in our condition.

God is showing me how much bigger he is, He cannot be limited. His love can not be confined. The way he works, and the way he is, often a  beautiful mystery. 

The hope he has for these dear ones, is one I cannot fathom. 

I am learning to let God lead me in these relationships. 
I am learning to put my faith and trust in him
I am learning to ask him for opportunities to share this saving hope, this intimate relationship with those I am spending time with.