Angel Unaware Pt. 2

Angels? Pt. 2
Scripture: Hebrews 13:2: “Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares”.

Have you ever really thought what an angel; one of God’s holy ambassadors from the heaven would actually look like. Long hair, short hair, jeans and a tee shirt or a shark skin suit, sandals, Nikes, or best dressed shoes, tall or short, walking or driving, flying, hmmm? Now, I honestly never gave it much thought. After all, during the days of Abraham angels appeared walking among the people dressed in everyday attire. They ate, drank, and held casual conversations. Hmmm, let me introduce you to the angel I picked up on the side of the road.

Of course at the time I didn’t know he was an angel. He appeared to be just another stranger in need of assistance. It was a full moon on a Saturday night and I was on my way home from Princeton Kentucky where I had spent much of the day with the members of a small Christian Methodist Episcopal church I was pastoring in 1992. As I got onto the entrance ramp to the Western Ky. Parkway, my headlights reflected what appeared to be the image of a man lying a few feet from the road. His head was neatly resting on a small duffel bag and I thought to myself, “that looked like a person lying there”. So, I slowly backed the car up, let my window down, and what do ya know, there was a guy lying there as though he had just checked in to a Holiday Inn.

I almost felt I was being rude waking him and asking if he needed a ride. Well, I asked, and he raised his head as though he had just awakened from a peaceful nap and said, “Sure”. Now I’ve picked up lots of hitchhiker’s over the years but I’ve never had to wake them up to see if they needed a ride. He had shoulder length sandy brown hair. He stood about five feet four inches tall, and appeared to weigh no more than 110 pounds soaking wet. He was dressed in blue jeans and a tee shirt, and a pair of well-worn no name tennis shoes. He picked up his duffel bag and got in the car.

I introduced myself to him as Rev. GoLightly, pastor of the Spillman Chapel CME church in Princeton, (I said proudly), and he told me his name was…Frank. I asked Frank where he was headed and he told me Virginia. Well, I laughed out loud and told him I wasn’t going to Virginia, but I would be glad to take him to a 24 hour truck stop in Morton's Gap where he could catch another ride, or at least have a cup of coffee before he got on the road again. He said, “Sure”. I began to tell Frank about my ministry and then he began to tell me how good his Father in heaven was.

I thought to myself, “Wow this guy knows the Lord”. Now, its not often I pick someone up and they began talking so openly about the goodness of God. Yet, Frank’s conversation about God was not as though he was talking about some distant entity that sat on a throne somewhere in heaven. It was as though he was talking about someone that traveled the road with him daily. Someone he knew on a personal and intimate basis. When he said the word father, it was as if he was really saying…Dad.

As we traveled the highway on our way to the Morton's Gap truck stop, I had already decided that I was not going to leave Frank at the truck stop that night, but give him an opportunity to get off the road and get a good nights rest in a bed. As we approached the truck stop instead of exiting, I continued driving towards Madisonville. I told Frank that he was welcomed to stay in my home for the night and again he said…”sure”.

I told Frank I’m always picking up hitchhikers and people in distress and just trying to make sure folk get home safe. When we got into town he asked if we could stop by Arby’s to get a large cup of coffee. And of course I said…”sure”. We picked up the coffee and headed towards my house. Well, Denise, my wife, was use to me bringing strangers to the house, but let me note that I didn’t say she was comfortable with it. And something about Frank made Denise a little uncomfortable. I told her that he sounds like he’s a Christian and after he gets a good night’s rest we’ll drop him back off on the highway on our way to church in the morning.

I introduced Frank to my wife and children and I showed him where the sofa sleeper was in our basement. I told him he was welcomed to use the bathroom and freshen up if he wanted. Frank was very cordial and polite. Denise didn’t take a liking to him right away, but my children thought he was cool. Frank showered and settled in for the evening. I gave Frank something to wear while his clothes were being washed. As Frank and I talked in the basement, he began to smoke…one cigarette…after another. Hmmm, and my wife is a respiratory therapist, I knew right then…THIS IS NOT GOING TO WORK!!!

But Denise said she could handle it for one evening and the smoke never really filtered its way upstairs. As Frank began to tell me a little about his travels, he opened his duffel bag and pulled from the bag a block of wood and large roll of felt. As he unrolled the felt, much to my surprise he had several knives and other peculiar instruments that appeared to be very, very, very, very…sharp. Well, my eyes got as big as little Debbie moon pies, and I asked Frank what he intended to do with those knives…and he said…: - )

Go to PT 3 For the rest of the story…

Be Blessed…Go