The Man on the Hill

When I awoke this morning, I remembered an incident that happened many years ago to my youngest son and his friends. But as I thought about it, it took on new meaning. He had asked to have a campout with some of his friends. This was nothing new, and plans were made. It was going to be in our barn, and kids were invited. My husband was working afternoons, so I was "in charge". That's where the fun started. We had a pond that was treated so they could swim, fish, play ball, and whatever else middle school boys do when they camp out. I settled in for a nice evening when they came running in, excited and fearful. This is where this evening became not just a campout but a very real adventure. It was now dark, and they told me there was a man on the hill who had built a fire and was walking around it and then bedded down. I went to the window and sure enough, there he was. I could see him in the light of the fire. So, as a good mom, I took charge: I placed each boy at a window to keep watch until my husband got home. I went from window to window to see what they were seeing and to keep an eye on this man. We lived just over the hill from Interstate 77, so I though it could be someone who was taking a rest from his travels. I can't remember all the stories, but the boys got excited about this experience and their imaginations went wild. Now, this went on for several hours because my husband didn't get home until about 12:30 a.m. Finally we saw him pull in, and I went running with the news that a man was camped out on our hill. He could see the fire and this man sleeping beside it, so he told all the boys to stay in the house. He got his shotgun, of all things, and headed up the hill. Later he told us the rest of the story. When he got there with his gun in his hand, he kicked the man and asked him what he was doing. You can imagine the surprise and terror for someone to wake up to a man standing over you with a gun. But the next thing I saw was my husband walking down the hill with this man and all at once he didn't look so big. It was a neighbor boy who had not gotten invited to my son's campout and had just wanted to be part of it. When the boys saw who it was, they embraced him, and now the real campout began in the barn. It had not been intentional, but he had been left out. As I begin to think about this today, I wondered how many times someone has built a fire within my sight, and even came and camped there. How many times have I not included a person in my walk with Jesus because I was afraid and I had a picture of what I thought about them? They were different and I didn't know why they were there. Would they think I wouldn't want to be their friend? After all, I didn't invite them into the fellowship of my other friends. Could it be that I just didn't stop and think about the one who simply wanted to be included in what looked like something great, but wasn't invited? As the Body of Christ, may we look---really look---at ourselves and ask, "Have we become so comfortable with our own little 'party' that we don't invite others to it? Father, help us see and include "the man on the hill" in our lives and invite them to your party! Amen!

Taken from "He Lives So Love" by Shirley Henry