Rich Dixon is back in the middle of a field:

+++

Last time, a man approached in the middle of nowhere.

He’d emerged from a decaying shed. Tarpaper over the windows, patches on a sort-of-a-roof, door flapping in the breeze, the sort of building I wouldn’t have imagined someone lived in. He stopped about twenty feet away and drawled quietly, “I hear y’all are raisin’ money.”

We didn’t expect anyone to emerge from this dilapidated building. We didn’t expect to be approached on a deserted stretch of road. And we certainly didn’t expect someone to know we were raising money.

Becky muttered, “Uh, yes, we are.”

“Wait here.” He retreated into the shack.

We made eye contact and silently acknowledged our fear. We believed we were in danger. I remember wishing Becky would jump in the car and get out of there. I was sure we were about to be robbed, or worse. I glanced around – no traffic, no one to help.

We froze.

The young man reappeared and walked slowly toward us. He approached Becky, reached out, and handed her a twenty-dollar bill.

“God bless y’all for what you’re doing.”

And he turned and disappeared into the old shack.

On the side of an isolated road, we shook our heads and tried to imagine what twenty dollars must have meant to someone who lived in that sort of home.

Later we surmised what must have transpired. Lots of drivers waved and honked as they passed during the day because we’d received quite a bit of television coverage in the area. The young man must have seen one of those spots and recognized our trailer.

I judged this man and the situation based on his appearance and the house in which he lived.

God saw his heart.

+ + +

Next time: How do you respond when stepping out in faith takes you to uncomfortable places in the middle of nowhere?

To be continued…