Hey Buddy, Can You Spare a Taco . . .

Navigating the world as a Christian can be difficult, especially when there are people who want to take advantage of your faith.  Genuine Christians are fairly easy to spot, which can make them an easy target for anyone hoping to make a quick buck.  Scripture is pretty clear on helping those in need, but what about those who aren’t really in need, but want to take advantage of your desire to always do the right thing. Is there ever a gray area when it comes to helping someone?

Matthew 5:42 Give to the one who begs from you, and do not refuse the one who would borrow from you.

While on a two-week camping trip out West, my husband and I stopped at several service stations in order to fill up with gas, get something to eat or to take a quick bathroom break.  It was during one such stop that my husband and I ran inside a Taco Bell, adjacent to the gas station lot that we’d just pulled in to.  Ordering our food to go (three soft tacos for my husband and one bean burrito for me), we headed back to our truck to eat.    

While eating, I started people watching. It’s something that I am often drawn to doing, mainly because some of my best story ideas come from observing people.  Within seconds of scanning the parking lot and biting into my burrito every now and again, I noticed a man walk up to a couple who were busy loading several cases of beer into the trunk of their car.  Someone must be heading to the lake for a party, I thought to myself, as I continued watching the couple. They momentarily looked at the man before getting into their car and driving away.  I curiously watched as the man who’d approached them began walking toward a second car; a car that was driving from the lot.  They stopped, seeming to know the man as he leaned into the driver’s window.  I continued viewing with interest, as the car eventually drove off, leaving the man standing alone in the lot. I could feel my mind analyzing with an “oh no” watching the man scanning the lot before taking notice of my husband and I as we sat eating our lunch. 

“He’s coming this way,” I said to my husband, whose mouth was filled with a fresh bite of one of his soft tacos.  I knew instinctively that the man was going to ask us for money. Although I didn’t have my gaze completely fixed on him, I could see that he was on a mission as he approached our truck, yielding two fingers upward before stopping at my husband’s driver’s side window.  Reaching for the automatic button, my husband found himself face to face with a stranger as the window creeped downward, allowing a burst of hot air to come through the opening, followed by that stranger’s voice.     

“Do you know why I put up two fingers,” the man asked us.  Laughing, my husband and I both told him we knew the meaning of that two fingered gesture.

“I want people to know I come in peace,” he spoke, stating the obvious about our differing skin color. He then continued by saying that he needed money for gas because he was trying to get home with his wife and daughter. I wondered momentarily where his family were, but felt a strong sense that he wasn’t being truthful.  He continued talking, saying that he didn’t care about the color of someone’s skin and how it wasn’t his fault that he’d been brought into this world with the color of skin that he’d been born with.

“It won’t wash off,” he said, wiping his hand across his arm in order to prove his point. I felt at complete ease with him, but was totally aware of his motives, especially when he started randomly saying “God” throughout his sentences.  The cross dangling from our truck mirror was like a beacon shining brightly to anyone within feet of our truck. With his elbows relaxing on the door frame of the driver’s opened window, he continued rambling on.   

He talked about wanting to get home with his wife and daughter and so I asked him where his car was; the one he’d told us needed gas for the tank.  My husband and I love to help others and so putting gas in someone’s car or buying them something to eat comes naturally for us and without saying a word to one another, we agreed that we’d fill his car up with gas.    

“It’s broke down that way,” he motioned behind us toward the highway.  His story had seemed to change a bit from saying that he’d ran out of gas, to the car breaking down.  With no gas can in sight, I wondered how he planned on getting gas back to his out of gas, broken down car. 

“We would gladly use our credit card to fill up your car,” I spoke assuredly, knowing that my husband and I never carried much cash on us. 

“There’s an ATM inside,” he answered quickly.  There was no need for me to wonder why the man himself wasn’t using the ATM.  I felt certain he’d concocted the perfect story that he felt would yield him the most sympathy. He wanted nothing to do with us driving him back to his car, saying that it would be out of our way, asking which direction we were headed in before deciding to say no to our offer to drive him back to his car.  It seemed that he had an excuse for each suggestion of help that we gave to him. It was clear that he wanted help in the form of money.    

With our lunch growing cold, my husband finally asked him, “what do you need.” The man eagerly replied, “$20.00,” before finishing with, “I ain’t on drugs like most people.”

My husband grabbed the five ones that we’d been saving for tolls.  “Here, I’ll give you this,” my husband said, as he handed him our toll money.

Thanking my husband, he took the bills into his own hand as my husband started to take the wrapper off his last taco.

“I’m hungry, give me a bite,” the man asserted himself. My husband reaching out to hand him the uneaten taco saying, “here, you can have it.”

“Why don’t you want to give me a bite? Why would you give it to me? What would Jesus do?” The man’s questions came in succession without giving us a chance to answer any of them, implying that my husband didn’t want to bite from the same taco as him.

“He’s already eaten two,” I answered for my husband. “Well then give it to me, you greedy son of a b*tch,” the man laughed as he took the taco in his hand.  

I sensed that the man’s intention was to make us feel indifferent somehow, as if we’d failed as Christians. It was then that I handed the man the top post- it- note from a collection of inspirational notes that I always carry with me, leaving them in various places, hoping to bring light to someone’s day. As it happened, the top note was filled with the words, “Let God’s promises shine on your problems.”

As he read the note, he started laughing before saying, “God meant that for me,” and then he folded the note saying that he was going to keep it.    

I explained to him why I had the note with me, telling him that I left notes in random places for people to find. His demeanor seemed to soften as he replied, “people need nice things like that to lift them up.” He then asked my husband his name and then peered my way before asking, “What do I call you?”

“Your sister in Christ,” I answered, adding “God bless you.”

Thanking us, he walked away, eating the taco, laughing to himself, seemingly surprised that we’d helped him, that my husband had given him his last taco, that I’d claimed him as my brother in Christ.  

2 Corinthians 9:7 “Each one must give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver”

Yes, navigating the world as a Christian can be difficult, but as long as you give in the way that your heart instructs you to, everything will be okay.  It may not be in the form of a $20.00 bill like some may expect you to give. Instead, it might come in small things such as tacos or an inspirational post-it-note, and you’d be surprised how God can use small things to make big impacts.

As I watched that man walk away, not seeming to have any clear direction, I felt certain that God was walking next to him and about to use a taco, and a post it note, in order to make a very big impact on a man who’d been willing to settle for a simple $20.00 bill . . .