We awake in the five o’clock hour roadside at a Rest Area not quite to Roseburg or is it just passed? It’s not so special wherever it is. Yet… we come to find out just how special it is after all. Already the day is alive as I breathe it in. Electrifying. I greet the Lord with a smile, and we kiss. Then… with Moses’ snout nuzzled against my lips, he presses in. We begin the “Good Morning” song. It’s nothing special yet it is so special. And it begins with a breath. Just drinking him in, I can’t help but smile, and that faint action, barely detectable with the human eye, gets his tail going so much so that his wag shakes his entire little body which forces me to smile bigger which, in turn, makes him wag stronger to the point that he can barely contain his excitement of what’s to come. And that’s exactly how I feel about God. 

Now, it is here that I could go into each and every detail of the morning as each moment is a blessing and there is much to observe, and learn, and share but… I’m gonna zero in on this encounter: 

I take a disposable coffee cup filled with urine into the bathroom, where I will dump it in the toilet. It is 6:05am. Moses and I, and said cup full of urine, walk past a man stocking the vending machine. I smile in his general direction and, though he is actively engaged in his work busyness, he looks up and smiles back. I am filled with his offering. Moses, I, and the cup go and take care of our own business, and on our way back to the van, we exchange “good mornings” with this man and are taken aback by his loving-kindness. Nothing special yet so special. My spirit is lifted. We part ways.

Moses and I return to the van, door open, and I tend to the coffee-making business. The man, done with his task, walks to his work truck a few parking spots away when I shout over to him, “You are a light!” He makes a universal motion as if to say he couldn’t hear me, and he walks toward our direction, stopping short courtesy of Moses, the guard dog. Standing a safe distance away, we had a brief conversation about how much I appreciated his warmth and kindness. How he was a ray of sunshine in an otherwise dark place. He, humble as all get out, tilts his head down and looks to the ground (it kind of reminded me of “Bambi” where the skunk says, “You can call me Flower if you want to. I love that part!) and he says this, “I just think the world could use a little more kindness.” And with that, I knew our spirit was one. He follows it up with a question, “Where you headed?” to which I reply, “Heaven, how about you?” He laughs, shrugs his shoulders, and says, “Probably the other place.” I say, “It’s not too late, brother,” and smile. We exchange more love, and I assure this man that I will see him in heaven as he gets in his box truck and goes off to his next destination. 

Moses and I grab a blanket and head down behind the bathrooms to a picnic area near the woods, where we bust out a few sun salutations. Well, I do. Moses is still learning. He’s good at downward and upward dog, though. There I am in a plank position when I see Mr. Vending Machine coming up the path. “Friend!” I shout out. He is beaming. He walks with the strength and confidence of love. He says that he had to turn around. That he had to come and shake my hand or something. He wasn’t exactly sure, but he felt a pull to come back. I am tickled at his obedience to his own guidance and move swiftly to secure Moses to the picnic table, knowing that he doesn’t exactly like anyone touching Mama. 

I walk towards this man and, in stride while looking him in the eyes, I open my arms and ask if I can hug him. He opens his arms to receive. “I just had to come back.” “I’m glad you did.” “Really?” “Yes. Really.” We talk about how he’s into energy, and I point out that what he’s calling energy is what I call God. We fill up in each other’s presence, and though this man couldn’t identify a practice or a ritual to point to that keeps him in this state of love, he simply has convictions about how the world could use more kindness. My mind quickly referenced Paul in the Bible, who says to pray ceaselessly. 1 Thessalonians 5:16-19 “Rejoice at all times. Pray without ceasing. Give thanks in every circumstance, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus (who is love working inside of you. My clarification.) Do not extinguish the Spirit.” And this is exactly how this man, Corey, lives his life. He doesn’t carry a Bible and memorize Scripture; he simply lives out the words of God without ascribing his behavior to man-made religion. Amen!

To pray is to be in communication with God. And you can call Him whatever you want. If this man, Corey, finds his strength in what he calls energy (Corey means strength in Hebrew) and he’s walking around this earth spreading loving kindness, blessing people like this God-fearing girl at a roadside Rest Area, I guarantee you… he is blessed. And will be blessed. He exudes the likeness of God. I can’t say that about all the man that simply memorize and spew scripture from the pulpit. But this not-so-special Coke-Slinger… he’s changing lives wherever he goes, and that’s pretty special.

There is always a story. Make yours a good one. 

And Corey… get ahold of me. I want to hear some of your Heavy Metal music and read your beautiful poetry. Love you, Brother!