Part I. I Called Out to God
Strung out on drugs, homeless, and alone in the world, I cried out to God and asked Him to help me one night as thunder rattled in my ears and raindrops raged war against the cardboard box that I called home. Now that I was ready for his help, I thought he would snap his fingers or speak my shelter and food into existence. After all, in my Sunday school classes growing up, my teacher told us that God spoke light into existence. Like he literally said, “Let there be light and there was light.” So, a one-bedroom apartment and a hot meal should be a piece of cake. Well, when I called out to him, nothing happened. I mean nothing! Okay, I take that back. Something did happen! It rained harder. My home was nothing but bits of paper by morning. I was freezing. I couldn’t stop shaking. While there was no doubt that I needed my next fix, I needed food more than I needed a fix, and I hadn’t felt like that in a very long time.
As I walked the lonely streets, looking for loose change or waiting for a burger to fall out of the sky, whichever came first, I stumbled upon a church called The Lighthouse. There was a sign out front that read:
Everyone is Welcomed
Free Coffee and Doughnuts Inside
Suddenly, I wondered if everyone could possibly mean me. At the very least, maybe I could get some coffee and a couple of doughnuts before they kicked me out on the street again. No doubt they could smell me coming from a mile back. I hadn’t taken a shower in a month and I couldn’t remember the last time I brushed my teeth. Not that I didn’t care about my hygiene, but it wasn’t a top priority.
Dear God, if you’re listening, I really hope your children let me stay.
#to be continued#
# a soul searching short story#
