Years ago, before Ron's accident, we lived in the "Crackhead" apartments. They were horrible, drug dealers, thugs everywhere. The woman across the way used to throw dirty diapers on the roof.
Today, we were waiting on Metrolift. It was a very long wait and Ron said "If God loved me He could fix this ride, but I'm not important." He begged God for help. As he got more frustrated he had more and more to say about God.
Then I started singing "Losing my Religion". He laughed, and then begged me to stop.
"Maybe" I said, "God will send someone to give us a ride, like that lady at Walmart." {a disabled veteran insisted on giving us a ride home when we had been waiting forever on a ride]
"Yeah, right" Ron muttered. About 10 minutes later a guy walks by. He looks like one of my recipients. He is older, black, not wealthy looking, wearing dirty clothes. He looked at me, and looked at Ron, and moved towards us.
"You used to live at the Crackhead apartments! I remember you! Praise God you're alive! They told me you died after the accident!" We talked for a minute and Ron said "I'll give you $10 to give us a ride home". The guy said he'd be happy to, but didn't want any money.
He is an associate pastor at a church, and loved hearing our testimony all the way home. "God loves you, Ron" he kept saying "You hang in there".
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