“Well are you all going to sing me a song?” I looked around at my group. We were all a little surprised by the question. It was 1:30am and 30 degrees on the streets of downtown Atlanta, and in nearly 3 and 1/2 hours we had managed to meet a variety of people. We met 3 women who were waiting after work together to catch the midnight bus, a jazz player who entertained us with worship songs on his trumpet, an alchoholic who could’ve talked to us all night about his “Big God”, and another man who just wanted food or a little change. But out of all the people we talked to, prayed over, or just listened to, a man named Leon made the most significant impact on me.
“What song would you like us to sing?” We finally realized that he serisously wanted a song from us. Leon shot down the suggestion of “Amazing Grace” a few of us instantly gave, and we laughed with him as we tried to decide on a song we all liked. Writing this now, I cannot remember what we sang. We forgot about the freezing cold for a minute as Leon, with a bounce in his step, snapped his fingers and danced to a song he wrote about his love for Jesus.
We clapped for him when he finished and each of us were feeling encouraged by this man’s smile and joyful spirit. Next thing we knew he broke out into song again. I was thrilled when I recognized the song as one of my favorites! We sang the words together:
I feel good, good, good.
Well I feel good, Oh yes my Lord
Because there’s something bout the Spirit of Jesus
That makes me feel good. Good, good, good.
When I remember the expectations I had at the beginning of that “night of homelessness”, I feel silly. I had been excited that we were going to go out and pray for people and bless and encourage them. How noble and good of us to sacrifice our time and sleep to be such a light to these people! What an ignorant, prideful assumption that was.
This man we met in downtown Atlanta was out of a job, and had no possessions besides the Bible in his pocket and the clothes on his back. We had approached him hoping we could pray over him and offer our warm gloves or blanket, but instead of accepting that, he encouraged us with his smile and his song, and offered the coat off his back to these shivering, somewhat spoiled and priveleged college students. He is a blessed man, and he has blessed me with his spirit. In reality, though I am privileged with a good home, good family, and food and shelter, the real privilege was the opportunity to be encouraged by this man’s joy. Because there really is something about the Spirit of Jesus.
