May 10, 2016
I met a 22-year-old boy on the side of Fullerton St. in Lincoln Park, Chicago.
He held a cardboard sign with his head down. “Hungry.” Next to him was a Holy Bible; on his neck, a simple red rosary.
As I walked by him, the Spirit prompted me to go talk to him. I had no cash at the moment, but couldn’t get him out of my mind as I wandered aimlessly around Whole Foods.
Ultimately, I went back outside and introduced myself.
“Hey, whats your name?”
“I’m Lucy, I don’t have any money but can I buy you something?”
“Yes, please; thank you.”
“Are you allergic to anything?”
“Do you have any preferences? What would you like? Name literally anything and I’ll get it for you.”
“Tacos? Or pizza is great.”
I ran back inside and got him 2 large slices of pizza.
“Here you go. Antoine.” We started chatting about our lives.
“Do you believe in God?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Can I pray for you?”
“Yes, I would like that.”
So there on Fullerton St, I kneeled down on the concrete to pray with Antoine.
“God, I don’t know Antoine, and he doesn’t know me, but we both know you…”
And so I prayed for him, his well-being, his family, his upcoming GED exam…When we said “Amen,” I looked up and saw eyes full of tears.
“Thank you,” he said.
It was at that moment that I realized how utterly human we both were — how broken, how lonely, how clueless…how much we are in need of a Savior. At the core, Antoine and I were no different.