A friend finds his place at last …
Gordon’s head lay cradled in my wife’s arms and we prayed as she softly stroked his contorted face. His breathing was shallow and his liver had finally given out from an insidious cancer. Gordon was a man who had been homeless for over 35 years, almost two thirds of his life, but in that hospice room he was now warm, safe and comfortable.
Gordon had only recently given his life to Jesus Christ and he reveled in our weekly “Christianity Explained” and pizza night each Thursday. He proudly carried his bible with him everywhere he went and when I visited him in hospital I’d always find him reading it voraciously. With a twinkle in his eye he’d try and tell everyone he came in contact with about his new life and what God had done for him. He’d first heard about Jesus from the Nuns when he was at primary school, he’d even taken communion and been confirmed but hadn’t had much to do with church since then.
In my Father’s house are many mansions …. I go to prepare a place for you. John 14:2
Gordon loved that verse, he took it as his personal promise. He’d lived in carparks, at the back of railway stations and churches, in filthy “squats” and sometimes in Salvation Army hostels but he’d never had a place of his own. That was all about to change.
Part of being a new creation in Christ was his desire to get off the streets and into a hostel. Nothing was available so we checked him into the YMCA hotel. As I helped him into his room the tears came freely “Is this just for me?” he asked, astounded at the sheer beauty of a clean room with its own bathroom and even a TV set (which he had no idea how to operate). When we later got him a place in a hostel and then a room in a boarding house he was ecstatic and kept them in immaculate condition.
As we left the hospice we knew that we’d probably never see Gordon again and although we were forlorn, we celebrated the fact that he was one of the very few people on the streets who had made a decision for Christ before it was too late.
Around 3.00 am the next morning I woke up with an old song going through my mind …
Come home, come home, You who are weary, come home …
I knew that he’d slipped away during the night. I thanked God that Gordon was “home” for the very first time.
