02/19/2024
Of a Sleeping Bag
little things adding up to much
~ By Sleeping Bag Guy
As teachers, we’re trained to assume nothing.
Yet, all of us, even the lowly teacher, do it on a daily basis.
Today I dare to make the assumption that most of us have never hurt bad enough, been in such desperate and deprived need that a sleeping bag is salvation.
That an appearance of a sleeping bag would emit an eruption of tears.
That an appearance of a sleeping bag would elicit an eruption of hugs.
That an appearance of a sleeping bag would display and solidify a newfound friendship.
Like the vast majority of us, I semi-and -sort -of chuckled as Dwayne gratefully and gleefully accepted this gift last weekend.
Dude, its just a sleeping bag… is what I monologued internally.
And a cheap one at that.
But as tears flowed and praises spewed and hugs ensued, it was my heart that transformed.
My heart that was touched by mercy. By grace.
By a simple gratitude for life. For love.
By Dwayne…and Jesus.
Because I had forgotten…
Its so much more than a sleeping bag, he laments. Confesses.
And maybe it is.
For its way more than stitched nylon with cotton .
Way more than the mandatory plaid pattern backed with the shiny coating.
Much more than a defense against the weather.
It is a cocoon of comfort and security.
A pad between broken flesh and unforgiving concrete.
The difference between destitution and deliverance.
The personification of Jesus wrapping us in an intimate and eternal embrace.
There are people like Dwayne in your life.
You’re thinking of them even now. And have been thinking of them as I unfurled this episode.
Perhaps it is the bedraggled, cardboard-cradling ragamuffins you ignore at the intersections and gas stations.
Perhaps it is the addict with a needle jutting from a quivering, heavily track- marked arm splayed under the bridge.
Or maybe its the lonely wife and persevering mother who feels unappreciated and stressed out.
Or maybe the exhausted husband who finds temporary contentment in the distractions of sport and p**n.
Perhaps it is the devout church-going, Bible-thumping, devil-stomping saint who appears to have all their mess together.
Perhaps it the w***e who sleeps with everyone around to fill (or feel) the void that can never be validated.
Or maybe its one of your best friend’s who drinks themselves to sleep every night fighting a depression and darkness you (and they!) don’t understand.
Or maybe its you!
Or me!
Whoever it is…
Be the sleeping bag for them. The hands and feet of Jesus they so desperately need.
Or in the immortal words of one of my mentors, “Be their Jesus with skin on.” (Major Hogue)
Don’t wait to even see a need to fill a need.
Infiltrate the darkness, depression, and discarded by going, growing, and glowing to them.
Being reminded that we’re all in this together.
And we are not alone.
The Message paraphrase of John 1:14 proclaims, “The Word (Jesus) became flesh and blood. And moved into the neighborhood.”
Our neighborhood.
----------------------------------------
I heard of "the sleeping bag guy" shortly after I moved here to Ocean Springs. He shows up every Saturday morning under the Biloxi Bay Bridge (and other places where he can find people) and he hands out sleeping bags. Every. Saturday. Morning.
Many of the homeless people that I would meet and come to know would tell me of him and his ministry. He remained a mystical and almost magical character to me for over a year before I had the privilege and opportunity to meet with him and shake his hand. And we've only met once, though we certainly continue to cross paths almost constantly...for years now. We do have each other's contact info and we do text occasionally, but for the most part, we each walk out our passions as solitary beings.
His name is Jason, and I only recently discovered that he was a very talented writer. I asked him if I could share this here today, and I'm glad that I got a thumbs up from him. I want to go further and share the link to all of his writings online...and he's also written a book.
Have a look when you have the time: https://substack.com/
