Here is a story that's derived from a long standing practice that is still valuable among friends.
In ancient times, in the city of Jerusalem and surrounding towns, a practice was fashioned upon one mans notable attempt to help a friend, and so notable was that attempt that it has been continually furthered throughout the ages. An old man whittling a branch as he sat upon his porch, noticed from a distance a figure, hunched over and carrying a large bundle upon his back. The bundle was very large and seemed to dwarf the tiny person carrying it's load up the winding and cluttered path. Children played and danced around him laughing and throwing straw and various other tiny objects at him. The man seemed almost unnoticed by the city, as he now slowly appeared measuring each step with careful and graceful pace, dodging each pothole. His face was unrecognizable as he bowed it straight down to the ground as to balance the heavy weight he carried. We watched as he dodged a cart and now the ruckus of snarling and barking dogs. Who was this man? How could he carry that frightful load, and where was he going? I was there that day, I watched and I whistled and waited without any action, only bewilderment as the events unfolded. Just than my grandpa, the old man whittling, jumped up and went straightway to this poor fellow under the huge bundle, grabbed him by the chin and picked his head up and starred straight into his eyes. I saw as he grappled the bag from off his shoulders and threw that bundle on his own back. My grandpa must have carried it two blocks before I grabbed my grandpas chin and looked into his eyes, only to put my shoulder under that heavy bundle. I walked with them as they talked and joked and carried on the next six blocks to the old mans house. As my grandpa and I walked back, I asked him, "Grandpa, who was that man?" "I'm not sure", said Grandpa, "I only know he was wearing my shoes." You see I gave those shoes in the church yardsale for a missionary to Africa. I realized they were my shoes by the bright shoelaces I had put on them only weeks ago. It was right there and then that I made the decision that I could be a missionary in my own backyard.
written for Ken, my friend............by: Paul Martin Coca 8-10-2009
The Lord is the Glory and the lifter of my head!!!
