As I pulled into the convenience store parking lot, I couldn’t help but notice a man with gray hair sitting in his wheelchair. I parked my car, ready to find someone who could benefit from a little company.
At first, I kept staring at the man as he skillfully maneuvered his wheelchair and how he avoided colliding with others and rolled his wheelchair to the edge of the parking lot, away from the vehicles. I also noticed him tightly clutching a bag of chicken nuggets as he alternated one hand with the other to move closer to the end of the building.
I finally stepped from my car to give him water and scripture cards to read. His marble-blue eyes glistened, and he dropped his nuggets when I bumped his arm with my clumsy self.
The panic on his face was clear, and he stared at me, then at the ground. And he couldn’t quite reach his meal on the pavement. I offered to fix the problem. “Let me buy you some more food. I’ll run over to that fast-food restaurant. I’m so sorry. I’ll be right back.”
He didn’t say a word and nodded. I apologized again, scrambled to my car, hurried to the next-door fast-food place, and returned with more nuggets. And while I was gone, he somehow retrieved the dirty ones (which I had said to leave) from the pavement—and they sat on his lap like a delicacy.
“Don’t you want these? They’re warm. And clean.” “ Yes, I’ll eat them too.” “How did you reach the others that you dropped?” “Oh, I just kept stretching my arm until I got one. Then another.” His determination was admirable, and it made me realize the strength he possessed.
“I’m sorry. I bring chaos with me.” I couldn’t help but feel deeply about his situation. I’m unsure how he came to be in this situation, but I knew his days were tough.
“It’s okay. I’ve got plenty to eat now.” “I’ll be right back.” I went to my car, retrieving the giant chocolate chip cookie I’d gotten for myself, the one I knew I needed to give to him. Standing over him, I asked, “Would you like a cookie?” “I do. Do you have one?” “I do. It’s huge.” As I handed him the cookie somewhere in our exchange, I let the cookie fall to the asphalt from my grasp. But fortunately, it stayed inside the wrapper.
The man smiled. “ You drop things.” “I do. But when I’m nearby, people will have fun.” I paused. “Aren’t you having fun with me?”
“ Yes. At least you stayed and talked to me.” And that’s when my heart dropped, like nuggets, to the ground—his words: at least you stayed and talked to me, shook me to the core. So I sat on the curb beside him, sure he’d need to help me, and we chatted more about homemade cakes and pies. He enjoyed the cookie so much; it reminded him of home as a boy and how his mom baked for him and his three brothers.
He shared a bite of his cookie with me ... and thankfully, I didn’t drop it. But I spilled my water when I stood up, like a waterfall of messiness mingled with laughter.
The memory of his chuckles at my goofiness filled me with joy! And witnessing that smile was the most heartwarming moment of the day!
One verse on a scripture card I’d give the man had this verse: 1 Corinthians 10:31, “Whatever you do, do it for the glory of God.”
This brings me to why this story of the man in the wheelchair matters so much. I believe God placed us here to add joy to those we meet, not just to be enjoyed by us, but so we can make a difference in the world and honor God with our walk.
So, friends, drop a chicken nugget of hope into a heart, and remember to take a cookie with you! Sit on the curb with someone if necessary, and if you spill your water, remember to laugh. Making a friend is worth the mess and the time, and it’s great for the heart. So, please accept the challenge and do something outside your normal routine, and do it on purpose for Jesus. But come prepared, you might need more nuggets to make the outing absolutely perfect!
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