As I drive into the mountain country of central Arizona, the rain that has been falling steadily begins to turn to snow and build up on the side of the road. It is not yet the dry fluffy snow, but the wet, nasty clingy stuff that cuts to your core if you are out in it. I have the heater going in the truck, and it is cozy in my world, as I swill from my cup of coffee. It is afternoon and there is only about a half hour of light left as I head north, my destination Flagstaff, a nice little alpine town in northern Arizona. I notice a figure on the side of the road with a sign that has “Flag” written on it, and he is getting pelted by the increasing storm, I just can’t do it, I pull to the side and honk twice as he runs to my truck. I clear the passenger seat as he removes a backpack and climbs in and says “thanks mister”. Before I get going again, I offer him some of my coffee from the thermos, and he gladly takes a cup. As we hit the road again, I look him over a bit, he is probably in his mid forties, his clothes are worn, but look fairly clean for a drifter, but he has a slight smell as he settles back in the warm cab. I give him a few minutes to relax and get comfortable and then I ask “why” he was in the middle of nowhere in a snowstorm alone, and why he is going to flagstaff.
He explains that he was going north with a car full of teenaged hippies when they pulled out a knife and robbed him of the last money he had, and took his watch too, and forced him out of the car while it was still moving, he is lucky to be in one piece. His name is Frank, and he is headed to flagstaff to see if there is any odd work at a cattle ranch that he has worked at in the past. They will usually be driving the herds down to winter pastures at this time of year, and he could use some work and shelter for a while. He had not expected this storm when he set out from Tucson two days ago. I tell him to relax; I will take him all the way to Flagstaff.
We begin to talk, and I ask him where he is from, and he says Phoenix, which is where I am from also, so we begin to discuss areas, and it turns out we were from the same side of town. He then asks me if I have ever heard of Garden Lakes, and I say that I have, it is actually an upper crust subdivision near where I lived at one time. He says that is where he lived with his wife and two kids. I am a bit taken aback, that area is way more expensive than I could afford, so I ask what he used to do when he lived there, he looks at me from the corner of his eye, watching my reaction and quietly says he is a doctor. Okay, I think, this is an awkward moment but I act as though I have met many homeless drifter doctors on the roadway in a snowstorm. Frank is smart though, and he realizes I don’t buy it and stares off into the forest as we drive on. He simply says “things change sometimes, and we realize we are not in control” and drops back into silence. As we go on, I actually begin to think he might be telling the truth, and I ask him why he isn’t practicing anymore.
He says he was a family practice physician for Cigna, seeing patients Monday through Friday for the HMO, he wasn’t filthy rich as he would have been in private practice, but he never wanted that, he didn’t want to be married to his job, he wanted to be a family man. He was happy with a healthy income and a nice lifestyle, his wife and kids were his life. When they hit their mid thirties, his wife had a meltdown, feeling her youth was slipping away and she became involved with her workout instructor at the gym. According to her, she was in love, and she wanted a divorce with spousal maintenance and child support. The divorce was nasty, she had a great lawyer her father paid for, and in the end, she took half of his income, the house, and two thousand a month in child support. In the end between alimony and child support, nearly three quarters of his income was gone. Remember, Arizona is a no fault state, so it doesn’t matter what she did. He tried to re-build his life; he helped coach the kid’s soccer teams, lived in a cheap apartment and gave his ex-wife three quarters of his earnings while she didn’t work. If she didn’t remarry, the alimony went for fifteen years so her boyfriend moved into the house and they lived together, neither working with Frank supporting his ex-wife, the kids, and her boyfriend, while he lived in squalor. After a while, he began to question why he continued to be a doctor, thinking if he gave it up, the courts would nullify the agreement and recalculate based on his lower income, so he quit his career, went to school to be a truck driver and set out to start a new life. The courts refused to refigure, and instead compiled debt with interest and billed him monthly.
One Saturday, when he was trying to get his kids for the weekend, his angry ex-wife told him that her father was paying for the best custody lawyer and that if he couldn’t pay her, he wouldn’t get to see his kids anymore. He had enough, he went back to the apartment, took about fifteen thousand dollars he had hidden away, and went shopping for some good outdoor gear. He returned his car lease and paid the apartment manager to the end of the month and told him he could have whatever he liked from the apartment, and then hit the road. That was eleven years ago, he had been frugal with the money, but it lasted only a year. He had done yard-work for people, worked shipping docks, day labor, and had a bout with alcoholism for a time. He was actually used to it and had come to like life on the road now.
I sat back in my seat, amazed at the story I had just heard, and then he really surprised me. “Mister, may I ask, do you know the Lord”, he asked me in a soft tone. Yes, I do I said, I am a follower of Christ I answered, and he smiled and said Good, I thought so. He then said he had become a Christian a few years back, and discovered by reading the Word that what the Lord wanted of us is for us to be humbled and submissive to Him. He then said he had become very comfortable with being lowly, and that the Lord always provided his daily bread, and he is much happier spreading the Word as a drifter wherever he goes than by being a doctor.
As we pulled into town I asked Frank if I could buy him dinner and he thanked me, but told me he needed to get to the ranch. He asked me to drop him at a corner in town and he would walk the rest of the way. It was snowing heavy and I would not have that, so I drove him to the ranch. Before he got out of the truck, he asked if we could pray together, and we did. As he got out I felt tears coming down my face, how I had misjudged this man of character at first glance. He disappeared into the falling snow as I drove off, making an oath to stop judging books by their cover.
God Bless
JFT
This story is fact and fiction, based in part on a real “Frank”, written to illustrate a point.
Thanks again, Jim, for using that special gift God has given you for His glory. How important it must be to Him that we not judge others. We don’t know their stories. He does. You bless us as well as remind us of how to live in Him! deb
Deb,
We are commanded to love one another, and love does not size one another up, love does not judge the book by it’s cover, but simply loves. Thank you sister
God Bless
Jim
Jim..your stories are always very special…makes me cry and at the same time make me think about my actions…Thank you for once again leading us to the truth…How many times have I judged people from outside….As Debbie said..we do not know their stories..but He knows and it hurts Him when we judge them without knowing their real condition…
God Bless,
Rani
Rani,
Yes, I think it is our human nature to label people, fit them into a nice little category that makes sense to us, at least that is my nature. I pray daily to be untrue to my nature, to be opposite of my nature and to love. God Bless
Jim
very good, well written, and oh so encouraging. we never really know who we are lending a hand to, or entertaining Angels..but what we do to the least of these.. thanks for the post
Darla,
Thank you for commenting, and pointing out that we never really know to whom we are speaking, as we do entertain angels. The scripture you quote “the least of these” is one of my favorites. God Bless
Jim