My flower in the ditch called Rhonda and I last night around 8pm. Somebody had stolen his blankets and he had nothing to wrap himself up for the night. When I saw him Monday morning, I asked him if he needed a blanket and he said no. Now his situation had changed and last night's call was a cry for help. He told us that he had tried to get a spot on the floor at the local mission, but there was no room for him at the inn. He had no other choice but to walk around downtown Savannah all night or call us for help.
It is a big deal when a friend who is homeless reaches out and calls you. It means you have gained their trust and they know you have their best interest at heart. Most do not trust others since situations such as people stealing their bedding are common. Once I heard his cry for help, I kicked into high gear, grabbed two warm blankets and got Ben to drive Rhonda and I downtown to one of the squares to him.
He was shivering cold and pacing around when we found him. Little did he know that his night was about to turn for the better. Even though there was no room for him at the Inn, we had called en-route to the square, talked to the people who ran the mission and had them make an exception for our Flower. Getting in the truck, we made a quick pitstop at Starbucks, got him some coffee so he could warm up and drove him across town to the Inn. The look of relief on his face was amazing.
This situation humbles me and I am reminded of another person who slept in a manger since there was no room for Him at an inn. Think about it, the King of creation was born and forced to sleep in a feeding trough. His family probably experienced a ton of rejection since His virgin mother was pregnant and not married. I can't help but compare the situation between my Flower and my Savior and it is a beautiful metaphor on just how much God intends for us to take care of each other. We are all prodigal children and God loves to hear us cry out for help, for it is the basis and beauty of salvation. Move over, make some room and give our worn out kings, our flowers, a place to enter God's rest.