A Compelling Story

Every time I see Alex he tells a compelling story.

The first day we met he told me how his life was trash. He said he had a history of making mistakes: alcoholism, drug addiction, casual sex… the list went on and on. But despite these mistakes, Alex told me he was ready to move on. He said he wanted to make things right with the Lord. He wanted to go into rehab.

The next time I saw Alex, he told me it was too late. He told me he just found out he has HIV. Tears rolled down his face. All hope was gone. He wanted to repent but he believed it was too late.

The very next day, Alex was mugged. His eye was black and his face was cut. He said he never saw it coming–he was hit from behind. He told me he feared for his life.

Five days later, Alex stood healed. He wore a suit, spoke with a smile and his face was smoothly shaven. He said God had blessed him. He told me he had been to Florida to visit his mother. Alex wanted to say he was sorry for his past and let her know of his future struggles. It was the story of the prodigal son. His mother welcomed him back with open arms. Both his mother and sister said they would follow him back to Birmingham, take care of his illness and pass forward the $17,000 Alex’s father had left for him before he died.

Later that week Alex knocked on the door at 11:30 at night. He said he had an emergency. He said his mother needed money for a bus ticket and he needed money for a place to stay.

Three days later, Alex came again at night. He said he was without a bed again. He had a friend who would take him in. But the friend wanted payment. Alex asked if he could burrow $20 to pay for the room till Monday.

Alex called at midnight last night. He said his sister and mom were in town but had no where to stay. RG, the pastor we live with, told him he had no more money to give. He said if the mother and daughter wanted to sleep in his bed he would welcome them. But he simply could not handout anymore money. They talked for 30 minutes. Alex never gave up hope; he insisted he needed the money.

Alex’s story has always been compelling. The problem is I am not sure if Alex’s story has ever been true.

After talking to Alex last night, RG was visibly upset. He sat in the rocking chair–eyes glaring, tears held back. I told him I was sorry. I said he was placed in a very difficult situation. RG explained how difficult the situation was. He told me how every time Alex calls or comes over he asks for money. RG said at first he gave it to him, breaking his own self-imposed rule. But after a while, he became skeptical. So much so that after giving him money Thursday night, he waited outside and followed Alex’s car. He said he followed him to the liquor store. RG said Alex used his money to buy booze.

Meeting Alex makes me wonder who I can trust. Part of me feels used. I feel like I have been spit on.

It makes me wonder if this is how God feels. He always shows me grace and I continue to screw-up. I wonder if God thinks I spit in his face. I wonder if God still trusts me.

When I first met Alex, I felt sorry for him. Today, I think finally know what it means to love him. In all likelihood I will probably never see him again. But I will never forget him. His falsehoods have made me appreciate the compassionate story of God’s love; the unconditional reality of grace.