The Stranger

I saw him walking in the lobby, obviously unfamiliar with the building. He knocked on the door, uncertain but not shy. Poking his head in, he demanded,
"Are the men working here?"
Thinking he was supposed to be helping in the church in some way, I questioned him.
"The men?"
Yeah, any men?"
"The pastors?"
"I guess, just, just any men. I have some problems I have to talk about."
I left to get Shannon, the college and career pastor. When I came back in, the man was sitting on the couch. His hair was long, stringy, and blond. His clothes were clean, the t-shirt said 'it has been...' I worked at my computer, then paused to take a bite of my lunch.
"What do you think of when you think of God?" he asked.
"What do I think of God?" He nodded his head.
"Someone who takes care of me, protects me,"
He interrupted.
"You know what I think about religion? All this," his gesture indicated the church,
nothing. Don't believe it exists."
"I don't think I could exactly say that I believe in religion, what that has come to mean, but I believe in God and his gospel."
We talked for about three minutes, as I struggled to understand his slurred words that were muffled by the nervous gestures he made with a small plastic sack full of clothes. He told me that to him, God was Hell.


This really happened, today in the church office where I work. I can't even imagine what it would be like to be convinced that God was evil, like this man believes. Please pray that God would open the eyes of his heart, and that his broken soul would be healed.