Imagine for a minute that you are cold and hungry. Home is a cardboard
box by the side of the road, and you have so close to nothing that
everything you own fits into a shopping cart you "borrowed" from the
Winn Dixie parking lot.
Imagine one morning as you sit contemplating all the things you will
not be having for breakfast, a limo pulls up next to your "home" and
the window in the back slowly lowers. A kindly looking older man pokes
his head out and says to you, "You look like you could use a good
meal. Why don't you come with me?"
And although it really isn't something you ordinarily do, the world
being the way it is and all these days, you are filled with the
certainty that he means you no harm and you want desperately to go
with him. But you are also suddenly acutely aware of how filthy you
are and how lovely his car is, so you thank him, but no, you're just
too dirty to get in his nice clean car.
"Really", he says, "I hadn't noticed. At any rate, the car can be
cleaned, and so can you. Please! Come with me."
He opens the door for you, and you slide inside. The soft, comfortable
leather seating and the gentle sway of the car lull you to sleep, and
you wake to find you are parked in the circular driveway of a home
that is nothing short of a mansion. The older gentleman is gently
shaking your shoulder. "Come on," he says, "You must be starving."
You walk up the steps and he opens the door for you. Inside stands a
young man, clearly the older gentleman's son. "Son", he says, "we have
You know his son. You have seen his picture in the newspapers you wrap
yourself up in to keep warm at night. He's Princeton educated and
involved with easily a dozen charitable organizations and foundations.
And he's well dressed and immaculately groomed, so you are shocked
when he comes up to you and hugs you closely, like a long lost
"So wonderful to have you here", the son says. "You'll want to freshen
up a little before dinner, won't you? Let me show you the way."
He takes you upstairs and shows you your room with the adjoining bath,
gets you some soft, clean towels, and gives you his own freshly
laundered robe to wear. "When you're done," he says, "I'll have
something for you to wear in the bedroom closet."
The warm water feels incredible against your skin, and you stay in the
shower probably longer than you should. When you finally do get out
and go to the bedroom closet for something to wear, you find it filled
with beautiful clothes. You take an outfit from the end, thinking this
surely is what your host intended.
The gentleman and his son are already in the dining room when you go
downstairs. "I wasn't quite sure what you wanted me to wear", you say,
"so I picked this. I hope it's all right." "Of course it's all right,"
the son says, "everything in the closet belongs to you." But his words
don't fully register with you, so intent you are on the gnawing hunger
in your belly.
You sit down to a fabulous meal. The more you eat, the more plentiful
the food seems to be, although no one ever comes to replenish it.
Finally you are satisfied, and you linger at the table with the man
and his son over the best cup of coffee you've ever had.
"I've been thinking," the gentleman says. "You know, you're welcome to
stay here for as long as you like. But it occurs to me that a fine
person such as you might soon grow bored with this arrangement."
"How about if I set you up with a job, a good job. I have friends who
would be happy to have someone like you working with them. To help you
get started, I'll even give you a little down payment for a house of
your own. But I'd like it if you would visit us regularly, let us know
how you're doing."
You are astonished. Tears well up in your eyes, and for a moment you
are unable to speak. Then a chill passes through you as the thought
occurs that this man is clearly demented. How sick to pick people up
off the street and promise them the world. He's just jerking you
around, having a laugh or two at your expense. Why would someone do
all of this for you, a nobody, a bum off the street?
"Because I love you," he says, and your head snaps around to look at
him. Had you been thinking out loud? How did he know? "I love you, and
I want good things for you" he says again, and you just know he speaks
the truth and all these things are to be. So you ask him, in a small
voice, "How can I ever thank you?"
And if he said to you "Just give 10% of what you earn to my
foundation, so my work can continue", wouldn't you think that hardly
seemed like enough? Wouldn't you think that was the best deal ever?
Wouldn't you find a way?
I ask you to consider today that but for God and his son, we would all
in some fashion be cold and hungry and filthy and wanting. Can YOU
find a way to give Him 10%, so that His work can continue?