to charles

Charles, I know I did most of the listening. I had things I wanted to say, but I didn't have the words to say them. Sorry.
You said you hate it under that bridge so you sleep in your truck. I wanted to tell you how God cares so much more for you than those birds hopping around on the ground beside us. I wanted to tell you how my God says if we have food and clothes, we're supposed to be content with that. But then I wondered how much food you get. And I realized how much stuff I have, and how uncontented I am with it. So I figured I shouldn't be the one preaching.
You said you took an entire year out of your life and read the Bible. Now, you don't read it, but it's in your heart. You showed me pictures of your ex-wife and kids. You showed me a picture of the woman you just left. I didn't see the pictures of the other two. I wonder what your parents taught you about that. I wonder what you thought when you read the story about the woman at the well. You showed me a picture of your boy in prison garb. He's out now; hopefully he doesn't have a gun.
You shared your life. You shared your thoughts. You said faith is most important, and faith without works is dead. You talked and I listened. You shared, even though we were the ones who barged in on your life.
I'd never think of doing the things you've done.
But you taught me something. You reminded me of the place in the Bible that says, "to whom much is given, much will be required." And I wonder... for all that I've been given, am I a better servant than you? My life has been saturated with opportunities to read, and sing, and be taught by my family. And you? You find joy in "Amazing Grace." You know that faith without works is dead. For the scrap of exposure to Christ that you've been given, I can't help but realize... you are. You're a better servant than I am.