Father, Can You Hear Me?
Yesterday, I had a profoundly humbling experience that reminded me of the power of obedience and the unexpected ways God moves in our lives. It happened during a simple day out at the park in Downtown Greenville, near the beautiful waterfalls. My sister and I were enjoying the scenery, taking selfies, and savoring the moments before heading to a Tye Tribbett concert. Little did we know, God had a divine appointment waiting for us.
A man approached us, his demeanor polite and respectful. He began to share his story, explaining that he was homeless and going around displaying his talents to make it through a challenging transition. I felt a nudge in my spirit—God whispering, "Tap in." I sat up, fully attentive, and permitted him to share his gift. He began to sing "Praise Is What I Do."
His voice wasn’t polished or powerful, but his heart shone through every note. Despite his circumstances, he chose to praise God. Tears welled up in my eyes as I listened, not to his voice but to his spirit. When he finished, he thanked us for our time and began to walk away. I felt God’s prompting to give, and I obeyed. My sister followed suit. Though it wasn’t much, it was given in obedience.
As he turned to leave, I felt the Spirit of the Lord strongly and asked if we could pray with him. At that moment, the setting didn’t matter. The people around us didn’t matter. What mattered was recognizing this divine moment and following God’s direction. He gladly accepted, and we joined hands to pray. I spoke over his life, declaring hope and restoration. When we finished, we hugged him, and the conversation continued.
What he said next will stay with me forever. He shared that he had been watching us from the bridge before approaching. “I said to myself, There goes my help. I was nervous and almost didn’t come, but I believed it—there goes my help.” His words pierced my heart. He reminded us that ministry isn’t confined to the four walls of a church. It’s out in the world, meeting people where they are, recognizing their needs, and being willing to listen, pray, and act.
This man’s courage and faith challenged me to see ministry in its purest form: not about platforms or performances but about obedience and love. He even said something profound—“We all need the Lord, and we all need to be ministered to.”
That day wasn’t just about him receiving help; it was about God reminding us of our shared humanity and the beauty of serving one another. True ministry begins outside the walls of a building, in the spaces where God’s love can flow freely.
So, Father, can You hear me? Thank You for speaking, for nudging, and for teaching me to recognize Your voice in unexpected places. Thank You for showing me that Your work is everywhere, even in the middle of a park by the waterfalls. May we all have the courage to say, Here I am, Lord. Use me.
