shoes and sean

I'm always looking for the thing that will start an unexpected conversation and wait to see where God will take that conversation.  Today (as often happens when I wear them) it was my shoes.  I know; they're a little unconventional and yes; I do have another pair just like them.

I had escaped from the conference I'm at in Orlando, to a coffee shop for a hour and was just just getting a refill when Sean (who worked there) noticed my shoes and found them (again, as often happens) rather amusing.  We got chatting about my accent and the Jubilee ("Me? yes; of course I know the Queen!") and Sean's longing to visit the UK. When I asked him if he was from Orlando, the conversation started to take its course.

Sean was brought up in Brooklyn, back when you didn't want to be brought up in Brooklyn and then moved to what sounded like an equally interesting part of San Francisco. He drifted through teenage life and into the inevitable path of drinking and drugs and the lifestyle that that often leads to.

Then he described (in a way that brought the parable of the Prodigal Son to my mind) how one day, when things couldn't get much worse he "came to his senses".  Coincidentally (!!); that was the day he happened to meet a community worker from a local church who told him about Jesus.  We sometimes use the word "saved" in a purely spiritual sense, but Sean articulated how Jesus saved him from the path that he was on in this life as well as the next.

He didn't know why.

Helping folk figure out the purposes that God has for them is something I'm always keen to get involved with.  The verse that came to mind was from Matthew 5:

14 “You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. 15 Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. 16 In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.

Sean is a lovely, smiling, helpful guy.  His light was shining in a way that he didn't even recognise.  It certainly couldn't be hidden in that little coffee shop in Orlando.  We talked about how his light had already had an impact on me this afternoon and undoubtedly on others.  We couldn't talk for long, but starting to explore how people might "give glory to your Father who is in heaven" as a result of seeing Sean's good works was exciting for both of us.

How about you?  How's your light doing?  Who's getting the glory?

If you're the praying sort, do pray for Sean.  Thanks.