His name is Peter.
We met him last night on the street. Selling the Big Issue. He was clean enough, well mannered. Looked like he needed a good place to sleep though.
He took the coins and Tony asked if he could pray with him. (Tony’s like that: Bold as brass). Peter asked if we could pray that he gets over the death of his dad, the Christmas just gone. Here he is. On his own. But still missing his family. Still loving his family.
His name is John.
He earns £160,000 a week. Seems to have a problem with the occasional girl. And I’m not sure about the drink driving. But he’s a good footballer. And like Peter, I guess he loves his family.
In between –economically speaking- there’s you and me.
But it’s not about money. It’s about family. Being loved. Knowing love.
There’s one who showed it. At Easter.
His name is Jesus.
No comments:
Post a Comment