I spent several hours washing Hawaii’s clothes on Saturday afternoon. His clothes are wet, caked with dirt, beer, and sweat. I realize one wash cycle isn’t enough. I run it again. Still dirty. I soak everything for a few hours and then wash it one last time. Clean, finally.
I pack three pants and three t-shirts into a Walmart bag and carry it to camp. This is everything he owns.
When I arrive, Hawaii’s sitting on a stool trying to shave his face with a rechargeable razor and a broken mirror. He twists and contorts his face trying to find the right angle. He keeps going over the same spots over and over again, making sure he looks presentable. I’ve never seen him take such pride in his appearance. He wants to look nice for church in the morning.
Every Sunday, Hawaii comes to church with me. Something shifted over the past few weeks. He still drinks. He still smokes. He’s still a long way off, but he’s taking one step toward God. One step closer to God’s plan for his life. I wonder why…
As we walk to my car I finally ask, “Why did you start going to church again?” Keep Reading
