Burgers and Blessings

Jack Outhier
It used to be one of my regular rituals, but it had been a while since I
had been to the parks with a bag of burgers, so when the urge hit me
today it was with a pleasant joy that I jumped in my truck and headed
into the inner city where most of the homeless congregate. I drove
those miles with the songs on a Darlene Zschech CD lifting and
inspiring my heart as we praised God together. Downtown, I pulled
through a Burger King drive thru and got the usual response that
follows my ordering 30 Whoppers, Could you pull forward please?
where the manager steps to the window, looks me over and asks, Did
you say 30 Whoppers??? Yes. Right away sir he snaps and scurries
away. (Better than the dingy girl that looked me straight in the eye last
time when I had come to the counter obviously alone and asked me,
Will those be for here or to go? 30 Whoppers? No, I think that Ill
eat them here. I responded, to which she just spluttered and
explained that she was supposed to ask.)
So, with a big bag of burgers and a knapsack full of cold bottles of
water, I pulled in to the parking lot near the park, paused to pray for a
few minutes, and began my adventure. Its really very simple, but also
very intriguing to me, I just walk along the sidewalk stopping beside
each person who looks like no one in the world cares whether he
exists, look him in the eye (if he will look me in the eyes) and ask
simply, Burger? as I reach into the bag and extend a hamburger.
Sometimes the hand extended is tentative, sometimes it nearly grabs
the burger from my hand. As I hand the person a bottle of water, I just
say, May God bless you. Almost always, I receive back, And God
bless you too! or just Thank you or You are so kind. For those who
stand there and look at me, I just reach out and touch them for a
moment on the arm or the shoulder while looking in their eyes then
smile and go on down the sidewalk. Occasionally, as happened today,
after I had been observed from a distance, several men and a lady got
up from under a tree some distance away and came and formed a sort
of line anticipating a meal. Two of the men shook my hand when they
thanked me and the lady stood holding her burger for the longest time
and just watched me as I continued on across the park.
I never knew a single name, had not seen them before and might
never see them again, yet each face that I studied I would ask myself
what God saw when he looked into that face? He knew their names and
their stories. He knew whether they were bums or unfortunate
destitute individuals. One thing of which I am certain; God never lumps

them into a group and generalizes about them! Each one is an

individual whom He knows and loves and for whom He died! Can they
be less to me?
Today I will remember for a while, for God blessed me richly this day. I
had seen the lady with the wild strawberry blonde mane moving about
the area. She approached every woman walking in the park only the
women and asked them something. Each time, they shook their
heads and kept walking. She was sitting on a curb sobbing when I got
near her, my bag nearly empty. I stopped, standing near her, and
asked, Burger? She looked up at me with a bewildered expression
and I was startled as I looked into her face. Her skin was smooth and
her eyes the brightest, clearest blue though a bit puffy from crying; no
signs of dissipation, no sun and wind weathered leathery skin, no sores
from neglect or disease, no bruises or needle tracks on her bare arms.
With sudden realization she saw the burger and snatched it from me,
unwrapped it in an instant and just inhaled it it was gone. Even as
she took the bottle of water, her face disappeared again as her head
dropped into her lap and again her body was wracked with the deep
sobs. I moved away a bit and sat down on the curb, my eyes focusing
for a moment on the evidence of the quality of life on the street that
filled the gutter and my mind turned to a contemplation of what it
must be like to live out here. I sat there silently for nearly a half hour
until she looked up at me. I extended the last burger with a question on
my face and her eyes and brows asked really? and smiling, I tossed it
the few feet to her.
Thank you. Im Julie. she said as she unwrapped it and began to eat
in a normal manner, savoring the taste. It was important to her that I
see her as a person, not just a lump of flesh on the curb.
Im Jack.
You dont smoke, do you?
I shook my head and shrugged. She shrugged.
As she took a sip of the water, I asked, Is there any way I can help?
No was the quick response, and then, thanking me again, she said, I
dont want to talk about it.
I understand. I assured her, Sometimes I havent been able to talk
about it either. and my mind replayed times in my life when I thought
everything was coming apart and wondered whether I would survive.
Then suddenly, but not surprisingly, the dam burst open and she
began spilling her story. Two weeks ago she had been diagnosed with
bone cancer. Her significant other of 12 years apparently decided
that he didnt want to deal with her problem as she had come home on
Thursday afternoon and found him with another woman in their bed.
Hurting, she flew apart and began to holler and cry. He had snatched

her purse and key ring away and shoved her out the door of their nice
home and slammed the door. Later that day he had carried her
clothing out to the alley and dumped everything in the dumpster. He
had smashed her furniture and photos and art work and dumped it all.
She had salvaged some of her clothes and wrapped them in a blanket
that she found. This was Sunday and for three days she had been on
the street with no food, no identity, no money, no way to bathe and no
solutions in sight. On Saturday her large bundle of clothing had been
stolen while she went into the filthy restroom at the park. She no
longer had insurance as she had quit her job in R&D at a large
aerospace firm here a year before because they were doing so well
that her significant other had just wanted her to stay home and be a
housewife, and she had just discovered since getting sick that his
company insurance didnt cover her. She was awaiting the processing
of her Social Security claim to be able to start any treatments.
Meanwhile, she was thinking that life wasnt worth living and trying to
figure out how to end it that night in the park. As my mind was running
through a list of Christian ladies that I could call to provide some
shelter and comfort for Julie, she finished her story and drifted into
silence.
We sat for several minutes before she said, Im sorry. I shouldnt have
dumped all that on you.
With a smile of inspiration and remembering Dons face as he spoke
about the family of God this morning, I said, Just this morning our
pastor observed that when you share your joy it is doubled, but when
you share your problems they are halved. I saw the first smile that I
had seen on Julies face. From that point, our conversation was quiet
and slow and brief.
Children?
Three?
Where do they live?
Idaho
Think of going there?
I dont want to be a burden.
Anywhere else? Anyone?
My mother lives in Tucson.
And?
She would let me live with her even though she was upset at me for
being with
Why not?
I cant get there.
To Tucson? Thats not far.
It costs sixteen bucks for a bus ticket.
Does the bus run on Sunday evenings?

Every hour.
Lets go.
Really?
Yes
She just stared at me as I stood up. Then she stood up and began
crying again, but differently, Jack, youre not real are you? Youre a
guardian angel.
No I smiled. Im just a Christian who has been helped by others when
I was down.
I opened the door for her and we got in my truck and drove to the bus
station. I had to buy the ticket as she had no I.D. She did ask for $4;
one to call a friend for a ride when she got to Tucson, and $3 to get a
pack of cigarettes. I know, I know, but this wasnt the time for that
lecture. I gave her a few dollars more in case she needed to eat again
and just so her pocket wouldnt be empty.
Write down your name and address and when I get a job, Ill pay you
back. she insisted.
No. When you get on your feet, find someone who is hurting and help
her. That will repay me. I instructed.
Why are you doing this? she asked, as she looked me in the eye.
We sat there on the bench and I quietly shared the gospel of Jesus
Christ with Julie as we waited for the bus. She listened to every word,
her eyes piercing my heart as she took in the story and thought how it
was impacting her this day.
Ill pray for you. I said as we clasped hands and she turned to the bus
with tears again rolling down her face but with a smile now.
On the drive home, I pressed the button on the CD player and cried as I
listened as the pure female voice began singing:
My JESUS, My SAVIOR, LORD there is none like you.
All of my days I want to praise the wonders of your mighty love.
My COMFORT, My Shelter, Tower of refuge and strength,
Let every breath, All that I am Never cease to worship you
Shout to the LORD, All the earth let us sing!
Power and majesty, Praise to the King!
Mountains bow down, And the seas will roar at the sound of your name.
I sing for joy at the work of your hands!
Forever I'll love you!

Forever I'll stand!

Nothing compares with the promise I have in you!
And tonight, Julie is in my prayers. By this hour she is sleeping under
her mothers roof; I pray that they will resolve their differences and be
bound together only by love as they face the medical challenge ahead.
I pray that her heart was touched as she heard the gospel and that she
will turn to God. I pray for her healing; both for her body and her
wounded spirit. But I pray too with gratitude that God took me today to
that park with a bag of burgers and a knapsack of water bottles to
remind me that His children each have a name and story and that He
loves every one of them.
Thank you, Father, for removing from my eyes again the comfortable
veil of indifference and apathy. Thank you for using me to touch one of
your children. Fill me, Father, always with a heart of grace and love and
mold me to be a vessel for your glory.
For lack of $16, a life might have ended tonight.
For lack of $16, a wounded child of God slept alone and scared in the
park for three days.
For only $16 a child sleeps tonight with her mother.
May I always be ready when God opens such a door.
Jack Outhier