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?”
“Antoine.”
“I’m Lucy, I don’t have any money but can I buy you something?”
“Yes, please; thank you.”
“Are you allergic to anything?”
“Nope.”
“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.
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