The Preacher and Satan

He's wearing a long-sleeve blue shirt with white tab, black pants, and a baseball cap. Above his heavy beard, his skin is bright red from sitting in the sun all day. It's the same place he's sat for the past two weekends - the intersection of Ten-Ten Rd and US Hwy 401 in Garner. He sits in a folding chair, surrounded by cardboard and plywood signs, the most prominent - the one he wants everyone to see if they read none of the others - reads, "Preacher. Need job to help family survive. NOW!" On a sheet of plywood he's taped pictures of his family, the reason he's willing to make himself a spectacle if that's what it takes to support them.

Around his neck is a large wooden cross. It usually hangs on the bedroom wall, but scripture tells him to take up his cross and follow Jesus. That's why he's here. He knows he's called to preach the Word to the lost. People are dying and going to hell; someone has to tell them about Jesus.

A couple of months ago he was laid off from a job that barely supported his family. After the initial shock, he perceived it was a move of God preparing him to enter into the ministry and fulfill his life's purpose...but that was weeks ago. The rent hasn't been paid, there's practically nothing in the house to feed his family of six, and if he doesn't come up with some money soon they're going to turn off his electricity.

He's put out all the feelers at churches in the area; none need an associate pastor or there's no room in the budget to pay for one. God must want him to plant a new church...but where are the people coming from? Maybe if he stands on the corner of a busy highway, God will send the people to him. So he stands there in the late summer sun, sipping on a large sweet tea he bought at the McDonalds directly behind him. Maybe today is the day. He's not hearing God speak specifically, but this is just God's way of testing him to see if he's faithful. "I'll show Him how serious I am about serving Him." the preacher thinks. "I can suffer this heat; and when God does show up with my reward I'll have a story to tell my grandkids about." That's what he thinks at 10 in the morning, before the temperature starts creeping up and hundreds of cars pass him with barely a glance; and those that look stare at him like he's a freak. "A Jesus freak, that's me." be tells himself.

By mid-afternoon the doubts begin to creep in. He tries to rebuke them, but they keep coming. Unseen, Satan has stopped by to revel in the man's misery. "Maybe I should help him come to his senses." Satan muses. Leaning in to whisper in the preacher's ear Satan speaks in a voice that sounds remarkably like the preacher's own. "Did God really say that I was going to preach, or did I miss Him somewhere along the way?"

"Of course I'm called to preach. It's what I've wanted to do since I was saved. People need to hear my story so they will have faith and trust Him for salvation."

"But what if I'm supposed to go out and find the people instead of waiting on God to lead the people to me?"

"I don't have time to build relationships. My family is going to starve if I don't get a job soon!"

"Maybe it's not about me. Surely God will take care of my family even if I can't."

"No! God gave me my wife and He gave me our children. I'm the man. It's my job to provide! As long as I'm seeking the Lord with all my heart, He's going to take care of us. I just need to wait on God's timing."

"Maybe I missed God's timing. Maybe I should have applied for some jobs just in case."

"But if I'm working, I don't have time to find a job as a preacher. I'll end up in the same situation I was in before - depending on man rather than on God."

"But look at all these people driving past me. Surely some of them are Christians. Maybe even a pastor or a deacon. Somebody has to be tuned in to what God is doing and will stop. Not one soul has even offered me money....not that I'd accept it. God will provide."

"Times are tough for everyone. I know people care. They're bound to be praying for me, even if they don't stop and help."

"But why did God have to send Hurricane Gustav at this time and drive up the price of gas so that people who might have helped now have to use that money to fill their gas tanks. Doesn't He care about me and my family? Couldn't He have done this later?"

"There are some people who are in a lot worse shape than me."

"But there are many, many more who are better off. Godless people who have stolen my inheritance. Damn them!"

"I wonder what people think when they see me? Can't they see I'm on fire for God?"

"Or do they see me as some wierdo with a stupid wooden cross hanging around my neck, wearing the same clothes I've worn every time I've been out here. And what kind of people would be attracted to me? Probably the ultra conservatives, less educated, someone older; people who live frugally. They probably don't earn a lot and they won't want their pastor living high on the hog if they can't live that way."

"But all I want is a living wage. I've got a big family to take care of."

"This isn't what I promised my wife when we got married. I'm not setting a good example for the kids, especially if I can't buy them clothes and shoes. If my wife wasn't home schooling, things would be far worse."

"God! What am I supposed to do? I'm trying to listen and obey. Please God. Have mercy on me and my family. Please don't make them suffer for my sins God. Tell me what I've done wrong so I can repent and be forgiven. Please help God!"

The afternoon sun sinks behind the trees on the other side of the road. Less than a quarter of a mile away in either direction are two thriving churches; but the preacher is all alone. God is silent. The preacher looks at his watch and sees that it's time to leave. He promised his wife he'd be home by seven thirty and that he would bring the family something for dinner. The preacher folds his chair and grabs a sign and takes them to his car, then returns and gathers the other two. They fill the back seat of his old car. He reaches into his pockets and pulls out his money. Six dollars. Not near enough to feed his family; so he searches under the seats and in the glove box for loose change. Nothing.

The preacher collapses into the front seat of his car. "I'll have to go home empty handed." he ponders.

"But I promised my wife something for dinner. I was sure someone would stop and help me on a Sunday of all days!"

"I can't go home without something for the family. I wish I'd never bought that drink earlier. I could have brought a jug of water from home. That was $2.00 that was wasted. No wonder God isn't speaking to me. I can't even steward the little I have."

Satan grins. "He sounds just like me now." he thinks. Seeing the agony in the preacher's face, Satan knows he's got the preacher where he wants him. Just one more push. Leaning very close and imitating the preacher in the most pitiful of voices, he whispers, "I guess I will have to beg and see if someone will give me food for tonight."

The preacher's eyes swell with tears as he attempts to hold back his emotions, but they come anyway. "God, why are you doing this to me? I'd don't know what else to do. How am I going to share the Good News if all I do is struggle all my life? Where's the victory you promised Lord? I don't mind sacrifice, but where's the peace you promised? Do you really know what we're going through. Do you care? I've staked everything on you because I thought you loved me; but now I'm not so sure."

The preacher weeps until he can't cry any longer. Satan sits back and laughs at the pathetic creature. "Go beg, you dog!" he shouts. He laughs again as the preacher opens his car door. "Go ahead and beg. I'll be here when you get back so I can rub it in some more."

Preacher walks slowly, hoping that God will perform some miracle at the last minute so he doesn't have to beg for food. There's only two people in line, but the preacher waits until they've gotten their food and sat down before approaching the cashier.

"Yes sir. What can I get for you today?" she asks cheerily. Easy for her to be cheerful, she's got a paycheck the preacher thinks.

"Uh, is your manager in?" he asks. "I can't believe I'm doing this." he thinks at the same time.

"Yes sir. I'll get her for you."

"Lord, give me the words to say because I've never begged before." the preacher prays.

The manager walks up and asks what she can do to help the customer. The preacher explains how he's lost his job and that he's been looking but nothing is working. He tells her that his family is hungry and asks if she can give him some food - any thing extra that they might be ready to throw out - that he can take to his family. She sees the pain in the man's eyes, his sunburned skin, the sweat stains on his blue shirt from where the cross has hung. Normally she would say she's sorry but she can't help him. Regulations prohibit her from giving away leftovers. But he's a man of God. How can she deny him? What would that say about her?

"You just tell me what you want and it's on the house." she offers.

Preacher tries to protest. His pride still battles against his need to take care of his family. He offers her the six dollars. At first she tries to get him to keep it, but he insists so she relents and tells the cashier to take care of the customer. He orders from the value menu and the total comes to a little over seventeen dollars. He declines the offer of sodas. They can drink water at home, he tells them.

"Thank you so much for this. May God bless you. I'm going to come back tomorrow and repay you by working this expense off." he promises.

"That won't be necessary, sir." the manager replies.

"No. I'm not a pan-handler. I pay my debts." the preacher argues.

"There's nothing wrong with mercy and grace is there?" the manager asks; though she has no idea where that came from.

The preacher hesitates for a moment; his eyes fill with tears again. "No, nothing wrong with that. Thank you so much!" he says.

Leaving the restaurant, the preacher is torn by shame and gratitude. He places the food on the front seat, starts his car and heads home.

Unseen is the passenger in who's lap the bags of food sit. It's not the same passenger who was there earlier. This passenger rides along quietly for awhile, looking lovingly at the man. "I know you can't hear me." He says. "The enemy has you so confused you wouldn't recognize my voice if you could. But that's OK. I'm here. I know. I care. You don't have to hear me or beg me to keep my promises. Everything is in hand. What I've started, I'll finish - even if it's nothing like what you think I'm doing. I love you Preacher. I'm not going anywhere."