"Mom, I have a friend here."
I had fallen asleep on the couch, it was 1:00AM in the morning.
"He had an argument and his Dad hit him. I found him outside."
My emotions ranged from incredulity to anger to fear. And then I saw the stranger seated at the kitchen table. He was a developmentally challenged gentleman in his 30s, and not appropriately dressed for the coolness of the night. I was as confused as he was disoriented. But my son spoke to him kindly and gently and soon we had enough information to call the authorities for help.
"I really messed up this time. I really messed up", the stranger lamented as we waited for the trooper to arrive.
Evidently he and his family had been returning to Canada from a trip to Florida and had stopped at one of the motels on the interstate about five miles from our home. There had been an argument, and he had left, probably after his parents had gone to bed.
As he stood to go, the stranger gave both my son and myself a hug and thanked us for our kindness. My initial anger was now replaced with concern. Would he be all right? What a burden both he and his parents must carry.
"Mom, I have a friend." I heard the voice of Jesus in the words of my son.
"For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in." Matthew 25:35 (NIV)
I had a lesson in compassion the other day. My 25 year old son was the teacher.
