Tragedy

Last week, the Saturday before thanksgiving as we were out doing our normal Chinatown outreach, I met a man named Doc. Before I met him I was thinking my life was pretty good. I was thinking I had it easy because I was in a group of believers all the time, had a roof over my head with food, and I was in Hawaii. After I met him my feelings were reinforced but changed.

I walked up as Matt McQuade was talking to this guy on the street and found out his name was Doc. He was homeless like all the other guys in the street and was telling his story. At that time, I was thinking I was right with God. I had prayed a couple times that day and was in a pretty good mood. That was until his story. He started out like this… He was married and had two awesome kids. His daughter is a graduate, but his son passed away. He’s divorced and now can’t afford to live on his ranch.

He kept going back to his son, though, and I thought it was interesting and was waiting for more. He was really excited about his son’s relationship with God. He talked about how his son used to ask deep questions about God at age 8 and was really excited about it. Then he got kind of serious. He talked about one day when he was at the beach with the kids. He woke from nap and got up and started walked out to them. As he neared he noticed they had stopped talking. He knew they didn’t want him to hear so he walked way and they resumed. Later, he and his son were walking down the road at Nanakuli Beach, talking. Doc asked him what he and his sister had been talking about. His son said that he had told his sister that he was going to die.

By this time, Doc was getting teary eyed and all the comfort I felt about my life at that moment was stripped away. I really felt how separated I was from God and automatically started praying for myself and the team and this man.

Doc went on to say that he was scared that his son had mentioned that and asked him why. His son replied, “I felt God telling me so.” They kept on walking and heard noises from behind them. Doc turned around to see a truck speeding towards them on the sidewalk and then he was struck on the hip by the truck and flung twenty feet away. After a dazed moment, he got up with intense difficulty, feeling something was broken. He looked around for his son. He wasn’t anywhere. Doc told us how the truck barely nicked him but hit and carried his son about a hundred yards down the road before he hit the ground. Doc didn’t know what to do with himself the next few weeks. His daughter and ex-wife tried to comfort him, but he was distracted. He couldn’t figure out why his daughter wasn’t ever crying. When he asked her, she said, “Remember on that day when he and I were talking? He told me that he was going to die, but that I was not to cry, because he knew that you might not look to God for help.” Doc explained that all of that was true. He just tried to get through things by himself.

By the end of the conversation, he had to leave, so we prayed with him and praised God that Doc knew God. The rest of the night I felt like crying. I was ashamed at how apathetic and selfish I had been and when I prayed and asked the Lord to forgive me for the sin I had. I felt so ashamed, but I know that I can be renewed in the blood of Jesus. I have a new view of things and a new respect for those on the streets, because everyone has a story. Now that I know Doc, I hope I can build a relationship with him and bring him closer to Christ along with myself