At a bus stop in downtown Galway, Ireland, my team and I sat there waiting for the next bus to take us to our campsite, where we were to reside for our month of ministry. As we waited, we noticed a man sitting a few feet away on a park bench, listening to music. Moments later, he got up off the bench, and began dancing carelessly around the park. He looked exactly like one of those people from the iPod commercials, crazy-dancing to their own beat. I’ll admit, it was funny to watch at first, because this isn’t something you see every day… but it was only funny until a group of Irish kids began harassing him.
They started cussing, and screaming at him, telling him he was worthless. When one of the kids took his hat and began running away with it, Stacey, Sami and I stepped in. We took his hat, and gave it back to him. The kids began questioning us, and asking why we were talking to him. To put it in kind words, they told us to leave him alone, because he was worthless…( their way of saying that was filled with vulgar, language far too inappropriate for this blog) With everything I had in me, I held back from telling those kids off, and I then thought about how Jesus dealt with people like this all the time. You have to love them anyways, no matter how ridiculously hard it may be.
This man’s name was Sean. We began conversing with him and asking about his life. He told us that he was once married, had 3 children, as well as a career. He is now left with nothing, alone, on the streets. He began to inform us of how the radio he listened to was his only friend, because it played beautiful music, and if it ever played something he wasn’t fond of, he could switch the station, and be satisfied. We began to ask him more questions, and each response of his was followed by a swig of red wine.
“Why do you drink?” I asked. He responded by saying, that he drinks to forget. Because nothing here is worth remembering. He then began rambling on about how the government is corrupt, followed by the police.. and that nobody gave a “F*ck” about him (he dropped the F-bomb every other sentence). The more he talked, the more I felt for him. It’s not money that he needed, because he made it clear that he could care less about that. In fact, while we were talking to him, another homeless lady came up to us and asked for money, and as soon as we denied her, Sean gave her the only small amount of money that he had in his pocket.
It wasn’t about food or money for him. It was about someone to talk to. We asked if we could pray for him, and began thanking God for him, asking the Lord to reveal himself to Sean, and show him that there IS a way out of the mess he was in. We told him to trust and believe that God loves him, and that he is worthy. Hearing these words, Sean broke down into tears. He couldn’t even look at us. He told us that we were wonderful people, and the best company he has had in years. We said our goodbyes, and caught the bus back to the camp site.
The next day, we went back and found him in the same place, once again, sipping on red wine, listening to his music. We said hi, and he didn’t remember us. After a few moments of conversation, he finally admitted… “Oh yeah, I remember, you told me to believe in God.” This got me thinking. This is the type of ministry I am going to be doing all month, and it’s not going to be easy. I don’t know if Sean will come to Christ, or if he will continue being an alcoholic, but I do know that I am going to talk to him every time I see him in that park. Who knows, maybe by the end of the month, I’ll get somewhere. One life is better than none. I’ll keep you updated.
In other news, we are camping right on the ocean, and Ireland is Beautiful.
I still have to raise 2,875. If you are interested in supporting this mission, please consider donating by clicking on the SUPPORT ME link on the left side.
