Five McMuffins and Two Hot Chocolates

A few months ago – on a drizzly spring morning – I had a chance encounter with a couple that I think about all the time.

Homeless and in their early 20’s, the couple walked in a way you do when you’ve run out of hope.  No shoes and soaked socks, they carried a bundle under each arm while one held a little dog with a broken leg.  Hungry, homeless and miserable.

I asked if there was something I could do.

“Really, just some hot food.” The guy replied.

I enjoy when people ask for things I can actually do.  So I got in my car and drove to the local McDonald’s.  Ten minutes later, five egg McMuffins and two hot chocolates in hand, I pulled into the parking lot, ready to complete my early morning good deed for the day.

And that’s when I saw him punch her in the face.

There isn’t much more that will send your adrenaline into the stratosphere than to see a man hit a woman. As I threw my car into park, I prepared to use all the height and hardheadedness God gave me on this man.

But as I set out toward him in my self-righteous anger, something I didn’t expect happened.  He ran up and hid behind me, whining and with a face clearly scratched up and bleeding.

Oh great, now what do I do? Can you punch a guy hiding behind you? 

After a lot of yelling from the couple, the best I could figure out is that the girl had actually been the aggressor (she was proud of it and his face showed it).  She attacked him for making a comment about the dog, and he tried to stop her from hitting him.

Now thoroughly confused, and tired of them yelling the ‘F’ word at each other, I decided to just leave, food and all. It was too messy.

I got back in my car with its ability to instantly shield me from the situation and nearly drove out of the parking lot before coming to my senses.

There I was, with all my possessions and blessings and what was I doing?  I was like a kid on the playground who, because they didn’t play by my rules, was now going to take my toys and go home.

I had been so ready to feed off their gratitude!  So ready to puff up my chest at the good deed I had accomplished.

In my family we call these “Come to Jesus” moments.  They feel more like come-get-a-whooping-up-your-backside moments, if I’m being honest.  Where God reaches past your misguided opinions to bring up what is really going on.

The only response in those moments is big bites of humble pie and forgiveness.

I opened the car door – McMuffins in hand – and slowly walked back.  I could barely talk to them. The reality of how I was the messed up one in the situation sank in as we talked.

“You have a great G-d D—n day dude!” the guy called out as he unwrapped the first egg sandwich and I walked back to my car.

****

So often I think I’m pretty clever.

I think I know how to help, when in reality I keep finding out that I’m usually the one who needs the most help.  You’d think I’d catch on after a while.

The thread that runs through it all is that once I stop thinking I am so dang awesome, God has a moment to whisper, “Finally!  I’ve been waiting for you to give up on your plans.  Now here’s what I want you to do…”