The Vagabond

                While on my mundane travel to work today, I had a rather amusing encounter with a homeless man which sent me into a moment of self reflection. Recently, there has been quite some run-ins with strange people in the subway, some of whom were plain drunk while others had been left harrowed by life scars so behaved oddly. These frequent occurrences left me to ponder on how much it takes to push someone over the edge . Getting seated by the window, I now sat across this old guy hunched over in an old raggedy jacket and trousers that looked as weathered as the man himself. It didn't take long for me to realize this man hadn't showered in his weeks. He looked across momentarily while scratching his white unshaven beard mumbling something gibberish. There were no one sitting anywhere near him and anyone who even considered sitting in the vicinity, quickly took to their heels in the opposite direction by his weird mumbling and erratic behaviour. More than halfway through the journey, he decided to sleep off and lay down putting his head at one end and his feet at the other.
               I sat here drawing this man, as he snuggled in deep slumber, caught up in my own flurry of thoughts. Being troubled by what he could have been through and pondering over whether if he had anyone to love him or any place that he could call home, I continued to add detailed strokes in my sketchbook. This made me realize, how I could have been like this homeless man- A Vagabond with no identity, clear vision of his past present or future, where he has been and where he has to go. My life would have taken the same course if not for Jesus, who stepped into my life and altered it. I could have been where he was, if not for my Savior and fortress who wiped my sins away and adorned me in his finest garments, giving my life a purpose and equipping me each day to glorify his name. I couldn't help but pray a silent prayer of thanksgiving followed by an urgent prayer of salvation for this poor man. As I got up to leave at my station, I couldn't help but want to take one last glance of this man, still sleeping away. Even if our paths crossed briefly, I thank My Lord for giving me this opportunity to pray for this man and help me discern how I should let not one day go by, without understanding the depth of the price Jesus paid for my freedom- From the life of being  -
                                                                 A Vagabond.