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Unbenanntes Dokument
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The Homeless Man Story.
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An act of compassion that turns into an adventure
"As he tried to silence my testimony of faith, as I looked onto his gun and into his angry eyes, I had to make a choice; - turn away from my testimony of faith to remain safe, or trust God to be there for me if I would continue on, for the sake of his broken soul..."
It was midnight when I left the subway station in Berlin downtown. From behind a dark corner a shadowy figure stepped into my path. "I need money!" he proclaimed. I backed away, tried to walk my way around him and finally managed to leave him behind. But then I stopped. It was as if I could suddenly hear a voice speak to my heart: "Remember what you have done to one of the smallest among you, you have done unto me..."
For a moment I wondered how this man would spend the upcoming Christmas season. Would he sit under a nicely decorated Christmas tree, unwrap gifts and celebrate the birth of Savior in the circle of a loving family? Or would he be out there on the freezing cold streets, lost and forgotten with no place to go? I could not help but just turn around and walk back to him. When I reached him, I looked into his eyes again. They were still the same, hopeless and empty. But it seemed as if my eyes had suddenly changed, as behind his outward appearance of filth and tatters I could now see a person God loved and cared for.
"I cannot give you money" I said to him. "But if you are hungry and you need a place to stay, come on, I'll take you in my apartment." There I went with this homeless stranger at my side through the streets of Berlin downtown at midnight. For a moment I wondered whether I really knew what I was about to get myself into. Maybe I should just take him to a different apartment and take off running. I could still change my mind. Or should I just have faith? But I truly didn't know what I was about to get myself into...
We got to my apartment and I cooked for him. He eat everything. I cooked again. He eat everything! Finally my last eggs were gone. He went to take a shower and it seemed like hours until he came back into the living room. Feeling clean and fresh he sat down at the table and we started to talk. Suddenly, I noticed the gun at his belt...
Immediately I felt afraid. Politely I asked him if he could take off the gun and leave it at the closet door for now as it would make me feel uncomfortable having it in the living room... But before I could even finish my sentence he jumped at me "You don't tell me what to do, do you hear me?! I'll keep that gun and if I wanna use it, I will. I have seen much pain out there; you have no clue. I've seen my brother get shot, die in his own blood. What do you know about my life? Don't you tell me what to do!"
It's safe to say that now I felt a little more afraid than before. I knew I did not have the right words to take away his anger and bitterness, nothing to say to change the fact that he lived on the street and life must have seemed to unfair to him. The only thing I could do was to point him to the One, who in the middle of his despair and hopelessness could still give him hope and change his life. I slowly lifted my hand to the painting of Jesus Christ over my study desk, the legacy of my grandfather*, telling him that Christ could take away his anger and bitterness and change his life.
This made things worse. "Don't you tell me anything about this Christ, this God... I don't want to hear this! There is no God! Just look at my life; how do you dare talk about a God!" I knew my own words would never make it, so I pointed to the painting again. "Just look at Christ, he can..."
" Will you shut up..." he yelled at me as I saw him pull his gun from it's holster. "I don't want to hear anything about this God, not one more word...!"
As he tried to silence my testimony of faith, as I looked onto his gun and into his angry eyes, I knew I had to make a choice; - turn away from my testimony of faith to remain safe, or trust God to be there for me if I would continue on, for the sake of his broken soul...
In that moment I remember how, 60 years earlier, my grandfather had stood under the same painting, facing the Nazis who demanded he take it down trying to silence his faith. He had boldly stood up to them and declared, "This painting remains!" Later, the Communists came with the same demands. Again he declared "This painting remains!" and would not turn away from his faith in Christ. Now many decades later I, myself, stood under the same painting facing the angry eyes of an armed man trying to silence my testimony about the God who loved him. As I remembered the boldness of my grandfather, as I remember God's faithfulness to him, I slowly lifted my hand again... If it was the last time I would witness to someone, I knew my life was in God's hands. It was not the painting but the One it portrayed who I knew could make the difference in the broken soul of this lost man's life,
"Just... just look at Christ..."
He looked at me, looked at his gun, looked at the painting of Christ towering over my study desk. Then he took the gun, put it behind the door, came back in, sat down at the living room table and started to cry. "There is something you don't know" he sobbed."This day was meant to be the last day of my life. I just didn't want to live on with this misery anymore. I had given myself a time limit, until 12 midnight, if nobody would stop to help me, I would go ahead and end my life." I stood in awe as I listened to an amazing story unfold.
"And I stood there at the subway station all day long, and nobody stopped to help. Then it turned 12 and I knew my life was over. There was nothing to hope for, it would never be different. It would always just be the same hopelessness, misery and despair. And as I went ahead to take my life, I saw you coming out of the subway station. I checked my watch and it was 12 sharp, so I said to myself "He will be the last person I am going to ask, and if he will walk away too, I will just go ahead..."" He looked at me with tears in his eyes and said "And you know what, I asked you for help and you... you just walked away. In this moment I knew my life was over." He paused for a moment as he pondered over what had happened to him that night.
"But I do not know what hit you that you turned around and came back to me. You took me into your apartment, gave me something to eat and a place to stay. I got angry because you told me about your God, but you wouldn't back away from it. Maybe there is a God... Maybe there really is... And maybe he has even sent you like a kind of angel into my broken life... Whoever it was that made you turn around, one thing I know, if you would not have come back to me, I would not be alive anymore...!"
The next morning I bought him a ticket to travel to the other side of Germany where he had relatives, to start a new life and have a second chance. But this night I learned a valuable lesson. Not only that God kept me safe in a moment of risk and danger. But I also learned a much bigger lesson when I looked into the eyes of the homeless stranger knowing what God had just done for him. I stood amazed how He had reached down from Heaven to touch him, and how I myself, without knowing it, had even become a part of it. I was in awe to see that God loved this man, who was forgotten by others, so much that He would arranged time and circumstance so he would not be lost.
No matter where we are in life, no matter how far we may be drifted away from God by choice or circumstance, no matter how much dirt, filth and odor we may have accumulated in our hearts, souls and minds, we are never too far away from God that His love and forgiveness could not reach us anymore. He comes to visit us in the middle of our broken world. He wants to change our hearts and lives and make us new again. All we have to do is grab his hand, accept his precious gift of Salvation, hold tight to it and never let go of his love and faithfulness...
With the best Wishes
for wonderful season of God's saving Love and Grace
In Christ,
Michael Furchert <><
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