My Work is On the Roads

I ran up on a young man this morning at mile 2. He was maybe 20. Maybe not that old. Walking, but didn't seem to really be walking anywhere. Short sleeves. It was 4:20 and 42 degrees. He looked scared.

I started doing a lot of praying. Praying for warmth. Praying he would get to wherever he was going. Praying a police car would come by and give him a warm ride somewhere. Praying for guidance on what I should do. I turned back towards home at mile 3, and when I got back to mile 4, he was gone.

Jesus and I had a pretty good little conversation the last 2 miles. What if he were my son out there? (Well, isn't he? Really? -- sometimes Jesus answers me with a question.) What would I have wanted someone else to do if it were my son? What should I have done? What should I do?

We came to the conclusion that I definitely needed to start carrying a cellphone. And, I've got plenty of room in my windbreaker pockets for an extra pair of gloves and maybe a Clif bar. And, a sweatshirt tied around my hips isn't going to make me any slower than I already am (and, who cares how it looks -- it's 4 o'clock in the morning, for crying out loud.)

I'm beginning to think there is work for me on the early morning roads of Garland.