Just a Pair Of Jeans

“Hey, you remember me?”

He was standing in front of me with a navy toboggan and a jacket. He was smiling, and he was carrying food from the food pantry in plastic bags.

“Can I sit this here?” he asked as he sat the bags on the floor.

I thought I remembered his face, but wasn’t certain until he said, “My ID was stolen and I am getting it back  Monday. I just need a pair of jeans. I was here a little while ago. I got a little job doing a little construction work and the man is real nice. He’s paying me a little until I can get things all set up. I just need a pair of jeans.”

I looked his name up in the system. When he was in last he’d been staying in a hotel.

“You still at the hotel?” I asked.

“Well,” he smiled, “I, I had to sleep on the street last night. It’s ok though. I am alright.”

I remind him that he can have more than a pair of jeans. As he walks away I notice  his jeans, the only pair he owns, has mud all over them from the construction site.

He had slept in those on the street and in his mind he just needed another pair to get him through. Maybe to help him feel clean and to know that he had more to his name than just a dirty pair of jeans.

I remember a blanket that someone had given us and a sweatshirt that was surely too big, but I take it and I offer it. “Oh, really? This is nice! You gonna let me have this, too? Ma’am what a blessing!'”

He found 2 pair of jeans in his size and he is smiling from ear to ear.

“You have socks? Just a couple of pair will do. I just need a couple of things to get me by is all.”

“Do you need a Bible?” I ask.

His eyes light up. “NO! Oh no ma’am! When I was here last you gave me one and I still have that Bible. Thank you.”

I ask him to remind me of his name and he tells me.

I say, “Well, you know what sir? I think we need to pray! We need to pray for that ID to come like it should and for that job to be a continuous thing so that you don’t have to sleep on the street anymore. You see, God is providing these things for you. I didn’t bring that blanket here, and that sweatshirt wasn’t mine. God has provided and we need to thank Him and ask Him to continue to provide.”

“Oh yes ma’am! I know that God looks after me! I trust Him and He is going to see me through this rough patch. He already is! What a blessing this is!”  His grin just lights up the room!

I hold his rough, strong hand. He squeezes it as I pray for him and ask the Lord to continue to speak to his heart as He provides along the way.

We say amen and the man looks at me square in the eyes. “Thank you. I know somebody has prayed for me today.”

I give him information about our church. “Please come to worship with us.”

“OH! I would LOVE to!” he said with his smile even bigger now.

I can only imagine how it would thrill him to know that he could worship, dirty jeans and all, in a place where he’d be accepted.

What would it be to have faith that God is going to do what He said He would even if I lived on the street? Would I have joy? Would I have peace in my heart and would it show on my face?

Would I treasure God’s Word and see it as a special possession if that were all I truly owned?

Would I value the prayer of a stranger and view it as a blessing that someone had prayed for me that day because I was uncertain if any other day someone had?


“I lift my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.” Psalm 121:1


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