Zed
was waiting outside the door of sanctuary that morning.
I was in early.
I'd had my coffee, Costa, straight black, extra hot.
And I was looking forward to work.
I love this part of my work.
Setting up new churches.
I love it.
And that morning heralded the start of a new day, praying, building relationships, doing business stuff, looking for the golden trail of Gods pathway.
And.
It started with an encounter with Zed.
Zed is a really great guy,
I met him one night on the street here in London. He has some mental illness. He definitely hasn't washed that frequently, and he is one of those people who searches relentlessly for someone to talk to.
And.
He's a joy.
I was pleased to see him this morning. He just wanted a cup of tea and a chat. He talked about nothing in particular.
I listened.
He talked.
We had a cup of tea together.
He left.
He said said see me on Sunday morning.
A brief encounter.
To anyone looking in it doesn't seem like a significant thing. There is nothing exciting in that story you might say?
In itself you may be right.
A week later I had to take a coat back to The Salvation Army Shop. The zip was broken on a jacket they had sold me. I didn't have the receipt. The person serving me was not happy. They gave me a stern lecture about keeping receipts and kept me standing there while they decided what to do. As I was standing there a guy came in, a well known guy in SA brass band circles. He had a CD that was not working properly and he had brought it back. He didn't have a receipt either. The person smiled at him and changed his CD straight away. I asked in a kindly way why this had happened? The person said that I needed to understand that SP&S was the biggest brass band supplier in the UK. They changed my coat in the end. I said bless you today.
I left.
I ended up going for a coffee on Piccadilly Circus.
I reflected on the Salvation Army.
I thought about priorities.
And.
My mind switched back to my brief encounter with Zed.
It makes my heart race in a good way.
When I think that I sat with someone who is desperately lonely. Listened to him, prayed with him. Gave him a drink and some food. Isn't that a simple but precious thing? Isn't that a major mark of the Salvation Army? Isn't it its lifeblood? To embrace the broken and those who have nothing?
Isn't it?
I'd love for us to be known as a big supplier of Love to the lost any day over the biggest suppliers to the brass band world?
Would You?
