Growing up, my grandpa was a Baptist preacher. He had always told me, if you're ever in trouble and need help, go to a Baptist church, tell them who I am and they will help you.
So one time when I was about 21, I had been homeless for about a week, I hadn't been able to get work for a few days. Dirty, hungry and tired from sleeping in the cold, I decided to find a Baptist church to go to Sunday services. As I was walking up the stairs, one of the deacons stopped me and said I was too dirty and I smelled too bad to come in. It was so hurtful.
So I was walking around and stumbled upon an all black church of the Zion, I walked in and sat down, listened to the sermon, heard some absolutely beautiful music. Afterwards, I talked to the pastor and he told me of a place that fed me, he rented me a motel room for a couple days and gave me a little money. My own white church turned against me and a black preacher gave me a helping hand. Not only that, I visited a couple years later under similar circumstances and he helped me again. In Knoxville, there is a lot of homeless and a lot of people make up stories just to get drug money, but this pastor believed in me and helped me. He could've decided not to help a white man and only help people in his community. I learned and extremely valuable and humbling lesson this day. Where ever you are pastor, thank you very much.
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