I Met Jesus -- And He Didn’t Look Right
Posted: Monday, July 14, 2008
by Yangki Christine Akiteng
The Real People's Love Doctor
Just like everyone else, I have my good days and I have my bad days. Last week was a series of those bad days. But I am not going to go in depth about my "trials" because talking about "problems" never gets anyone anywhere -- but straight to depression. Instead I'd rather share one incident that turned my very trying week into a "re-acquaintance with Jesus" and a very powerful lesson on humility.
In the last three years, I stopped calling myself a Christian and I stopped going to Church and just study my Bible at home or watch Joel Osteen on TV-- lately, he's the only televangelist (or evangelist), who makes sense to me. This is my opinion and I don't expect to be attacked for having a personal opinion. It's my life. Right?
Anyways, I woke up Saturday morning and right away I knew this wasn't going to be the best day of my life. But this never stopped me before, so I headed out to my favourite Ethiopian restaurant to meet my friends for our usual Saturday "girls gotta have some fun" afternoon. When I got there the restaurant was closed -- this has never happened in the 2 years I've known this place. I started to call my friends to find out where they where at, and found out my cell phone battery was dead (forgot to charge the night before). So I found a payphone and called them. They told me where to find them.
On Saturdays we all don't drive cars and instead take the metro transit (sub-way)-- it's more fun because you get to meet real folks and see the real Toronto and flirt a little bit, you can't do that in your car on the highway. When I am with friends this is great fun, but being directionally challenged (if you ask me which of my hands is the left and which is the right, I have to think about it first, that's how bad!), I knew I was in trouble.
I ended up taking three wrong streetcars (too proud to ask for directions from the driver, what would other passengers think??) . I was completely lost with no idea where I came from or where I was going to. And by the time I got off the third wrong stop, I was all up in here (head) and my usual calmness was beginning to crack.
Now, I am standing there waiting for the fourth streetcar (probably another wrong one) and this obviously very drunk young man (it's 3 p.m. in the afternoon!!) comes up to me trying to chat me up. I wasn't already doing too well managing my emotions, so I gave him a scowl and moved away. He was too drunk to care and kept hitting on me and asking for my telephone number -- I completely lost it!
Anyways, I woke up Saturday morning and right away I knew this wasn't going to be the best day of my life. But this never stopped me before, so I headed out to my favourite Ethiopian restaurant to meet my friends for our usual Saturday "girls gotta have some fun" afternoon. When I got there the restaurant was closed -- this has never happened in the 2 years I've known this place. I started to call my friends to find out where they where at, and found out my cell phone battery was dead (forgot to charge the night before). So I found a payphone and called them. They told me where to find them.
On Saturdays we all don't drive cars and instead take the metro transit (sub-way)-- it's more fun because you get to meet real folks and see the real Toronto and flirt a little bit, you can't do that in your car on the highway. When I am with friends this is great fun, but being directionally challenged (if you ask me which of my hands is the left and which is the right, I have to think about it first, that's how bad!), I knew I was in trouble.
I ended up taking three wrong streetcars (too proud to ask for directions from the driver, what would other passengers think??) . I was completely lost with no idea where I came from or where I was going to. And by the time I got off the third wrong stop, I was all up in here (head) and my usual calmness was beginning to crack.
Now, I am standing there waiting for the fourth streetcar (probably another wrong one) and this obviously very drunk young man (it's 3 p.m. in the afternoon!!) comes up to me trying to chat me up. I wasn't already doing too well managing my emotions, so I gave him a scowl and moved away. He was too drunk to care and kept hitting on me and asking for my telephone number -- I completely lost it!
Just from his physique and something about him told me he was African. Those guys don't know the meaning of rejection (and in some ways, I like that). But for some weakness of mine, I seem to have less patience for Africans acting like they lost control of their lives (like drunk in the middle of the afternoon). May be that's because I feel they are "making me (African) look bad". And (arrogance) let the poor guy have it.
Using African "sting like a bee" language, I told him he was a waste, his parents would hide their faces in their hands if they saw him like this, he was the reason others didn't have much respect for Africans... blah, blah, blah.
His demeanor suddenly changed and he murmured "you have no idea, you just have no idea" but I wasn't playing life coach just then and kept hammering at him for "coming all the way here (Canada) to act like a chicken without a head".
I was looking at him directly in the eyes and really giving him "the look". He began to cry. In my culture, they say when a man cries, he is "standing up from the inside". Of course not every man -- if he is always crying, all oversensitive and always complaining about his feelings being hurt-- he's just not a man. But if he has this moment of "human weakness" it stirs the "nurturer" in a woman's soul.
Suddenly, "I" didn't matter to I, me, and myself. He mattered. I asked him if I could buy him coffee and he agreed. So we sat down -- I hate alcohol breath but this wasn't about me anymore.
He sipped his coffee in silence for about 5 minutes. I told him I was done talking and if he wanted to talk, I would "hear him". He slowly started to tell his story and kept talking for almost an hour without stopping. By the time he was done, we were both crying and holding hands tightly. People in the coffee shop might have thought we were lovers "making up".
We talked for another 2 hours, then he walked me to the (right) streetcar. I gave him my business card and told him to call me. He simply said "you don't even know that you just saved my life" and for the first time since we met, he smiled. He had that light-up-my-world Obama toothpaste ad smile going on. And before your mind even goes there, "NO, I don't have a crush on Obama". I was fathered by a politician who abandoned me at childhood, and then I "married" a politician -- that's ENOUGH for one lifetime.
Sitting in the streetcar, I couldn't help but ask "Now, what was that all about?" First, the restaurant was closed. Then my cell phone battery was down (I could have called my friends to ask for the right streets car), then I get into three wrong streetcars, and as if that isn't enough already, a drunk African man hits on me on the open street? Then I "saved" his life?
Even the least perceptive person (which I am not) could tell that an unseen hand had led me here to this experience. I was still mulling over what just happened when I heard that still voice I've known for years say, "WHATEVER YOU DO TO THE LEAST OF THESE MY BROTHERS, YOU DO IT UNTO ME"? Suddenly it all made sense. I found myself thinking "That was you? An African man drunk in the middle of a hot afternoon? What the hell were you thinking hitting on me?"
I wonder how many people who call themselves Christians today would recognize Jesus Christ (the son of God) if He came to them in a loose dress-like robe, worn-out strap sandals, beard and hair unshaven, a turban-like headgear and speaking radicalism on an open mountain slope to a crowd (of unbelievers, thieves, adulterers, drunkards, the crippled, the blind, the sick, the demon-possessed, the hungry etc)? Nothing that fits into today's " typical Christian's profile". Just a ragged poor looking maiden's son; a carpenter by trade whose clothes are donations/pittance and who eats whatever He is given and sleeps wherever the night finds Him.
No fancy Armani suit and tie, no "gospel accent", no "speaking in tongues", no sleek microphone, no camera crew, no bible head thumping, no sinner-witch hunting, no "prosperity BS", no million dollar book deals, no neat tight "Christian" families driving in expensive cars to multi-million dollar churches, sitting in phews, "holy-faced", hands up in the air singing "sanctified sacrifice" and murmuring holy-nothings to other holy-faced Christians (God forbid they rub shoulders with unbelievers, thieves, drunkards, drug-addicts -- sinners!).
I wonder how many people who call themselves Christians today can say "I met Jesus, and I instantly recognized Him?"
Just the Son of God with the powerful message of LOVE.
I didn't recognize Him instantly, but I know I met Him that Saturday afternoon.
Using African "sting like a bee" language, I told him he was a waste, his parents would hide their faces in their hands if they saw him like this, he was the reason others didn't have much respect for Africans... blah, blah, blah.
His demeanor suddenly changed and he murmured "you have no idea, you just have no idea" but I wasn't playing life coach just then and kept hammering at him for "coming all the way here (Canada) to act like a chicken without a head".
I was looking at him directly in the eyes and really giving him "the look". He began to cry. In my culture, they say when a man cries, he is "standing up from the inside". Of course not every man -- if he is always crying, all oversensitive and always complaining about his feelings being hurt-- he's just not a man. But if he has this moment of "human weakness" it stirs the "nurturer" in a woman's soul.
Suddenly, "I" didn't matter to I, me, and myself. He mattered. I asked him if I could buy him coffee and he agreed. So we sat down -- I hate alcohol breath but this wasn't about me anymore.
He sipped his coffee in silence for about 5 minutes. I told him I was done talking and if he wanted to talk, I would "hear him". He slowly started to tell his story and kept talking for almost an hour without stopping. By the time he was done, we were both crying and holding hands tightly. People in the coffee shop might have thought we were lovers "making up".
We talked for another 2 hours, then he walked me to the (right) streetcar. I gave him my business card and told him to call me. He simply said "you don't even know that you just saved my life" and for the first time since we met, he smiled. He had that light-up-my-world Obama toothpaste ad smile going on. And before your mind even goes there, "NO, I don't have a crush on Obama". I was fathered by a politician who abandoned me at childhood, and then I "married" a politician -- that's ENOUGH for one lifetime.
Sitting in the streetcar, I couldn't help but ask "Now, what was that all about?" First, the restaurant was closed. Then my cell phone battery was down (I could have called my friends to ask for the right streets car), then I get into three wrong streetcars, and as if that isn't enough already, a drunk African man hits on me on the open street? Then I "saved" his life?
Even the least perceptive person (which I am not) could tell that an unseen hand had led me here to this experience. I was still mulling over what just happened when I heard that still voice I've known for years say, "WHATEVER YOU DO TO THE LEAST OF THESE MY BROTHERS, YOU DO IT UNTO ME"? Suddenly it all made sense. I found myself thinking "That was you? An African man drunk in the middle of a hot afternoon? What the hell were you thinking hitting on me?"
I wonder how many people who call themselves Christians today would recognize Jesus Christ (the son of God) if He came to them in a loose dress-like robe, worn-out strap sandals, beard and hair unshaven, a turban-like headgear and speaking radicalism on an open mountain slope to a crowd (of unbelievers, thieves, adulterers, drunkards, the crippled, the blind, the sick, the demon-possessed, the hungry etc)? Nothing that fits into today's " typical Christian's profile". Just a ragged poor looking maiden's son; a carpenter by trade whose clothes are donations/pittance and who eats whatever He is given and sleeps wherever the night finds Him.
No fancy Armani suit and tie, no "gospel accent", no "speaking in tongues", no sleek microphone, no camera crew, no bible head thumping, no sinner-witch hunting, no "prosperity BS", no million dollar book deals, no neat tight "Christian" families driving in expensive cars to multi-million dollar churches, sitting in phews, "holy-faced", hands up in the air singing "sanctified sacrifice" and murmuring holy-nothings to other holy-faced Christians (God forbid they rub shoulders with unbelievers, thieves, drunkards, drug-addicts -- sinners!).
I wonder how many people who call themselves Christians today can say "I met Jesus, and I instantly recognized Him?"
Just the Son of God with the powerful message of LOVE.
I didn't recognize Him instantly, but I know I met Him that Saturday afternoon.
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More commentsCan't say it enough. this was a powerful piece of work and an awesome experience. So glad you took the time to give him an outlet to share his feelings with you and you shared it with us. Thanks againPlease log in to respond to this comment.Roschelle, thanks again. Taking the time to share people's feelings is what I do for a living (get paid to do) and also defines who I am. This experience was a testing of what I really am made of. I flanked. I do hope that by sharing this, people who read it can take the time to look around them and see how they are doing -- in their "Christian walk". That's the motivation behind my writing the article.Please log in to respond to this comment.
Ah Christine,
Isn't it classic Jesus to come to us in the form of our greatest "prejudice"? The times in my life where I can say I felt that I truly saw Jesus, it has always involved a humbling of myself and my pride and usually it also involves someone I don't want to love, someone I think I'm "better" than. Thank you so much for sharing with us. May you see Jesus many more times!Please log in to respond to this comment.Jean, you are so RIGHT ON! Your comment made me smile... :-). It's touching to know someone else who's experienced this kind of humbling and call to love the "unlovable". Until Saturday, I knew I had that "prejudice" but always found away to justify it, I called it "tough love"!. It's what it is -- prejuedice. May we all see Him -- many more times!!Please log in to respond to this comment.That was me above -- forgot to log in!Please log in to respond to this comment.
Wonderful article, Christine. Don't you just love people! Stories like this warm my heart to bursting!
SandraPlease log in to respond to this comment.Sandra!! I DO love people -- and I love YOU! Thank you... :-))Please log in to respond to this comment.
As I read this article it made me laugh, because my friends and I have experiences like this often. Rarely do we have "normal" days. But what you say is so true. We are quick to judge the dirty smelly man or woman on the street and we lower their value because for some reason or other we believe they chose to live this way. But we have no idea what events in their life led to their current situation. Every time I pass a homeless person, I wonder to myself....what went wrong, what are they thinking, feeling. I live in New York City so it is unfortunately a common site. But it is those souls that are truly with God because they are at their humblest form. No vanity, no prejudices, every one becomes the same. They only want to survive.
In this world so hung up on building condos, making millions, and being the ageless beauty, we forget that it was God who created this all. Without him we are nothing. He made us and he can break us. He will test us again and again and again. It is not sufficient to speak of him. We must prove our faith and love for him.
I stopped attending church, but my faith is strong. I speak to him throughout the day as if he were one of my friends...no formal conversation. I just chat...Hey God what do I do or what does this mean? What is it that you are asking of me? Then I just listen to my heart for his answer.
As of the last several weeks I have given my self to him to use me as vessel. I have opened myself to whatever he wishes for me to do.
So Christine we all have to go through our humbling moments. Just like every time I fall I say it is God bringing me back down to earth whenever he sees I am getting to "big for my britches". What we must strenghthen is our ability to hear him and do what we were meant to do.
Thanks for sharing...this was a wonderful experience...God BlessPlease log in to respond to this comment.Li Riv. Congs on giving yourself to Him to use as vessel. He WILL use you, that you can count on.... :-))I agree with you that sometimes we lose our focus on who and what is most important. Good for you that you live in New York City and have a constant reminder.In my case, I wasn't "bothered" by this guy's outer "appearance" at all. Smelly, dirty, homeless, poor, sick people never bother me at all. I am around them all the time. I grew up "dirt" poor, work in a mental/addictions treatment institution, and would rather serve Christmas eve dinner in a homeless shelter than attend a Christmas eve party. I am even more at "home" with these kinds of people than with other kinds of people. I am sure if God sent me one of "those people", I wouldn't have had my humbling experience. It'd just be another day in my life.He knows me too well and sent me someone who'd try my pride and patience to the limit... :-)Keep the faith strong -- It's not like there is a another way to live. This is IT :-)). Blessings back to you!Please log in to respond to this comment.
Christine, I hope you take more time from your busy schedule of giving advice to receiving advice from that still small voice within you.Please log in to respond to this comment.Are those two different?? :-)). Just kidding, I hear what you are saying. If truth be told, without that small still voice, I am NOTHING... I couldn't possibly give any sound advice because all the advice that comes through me, isn't mine. I am just an empty vessel -- He uses for His work (yes, sometimes, I fill that vessel up with a little pride and impatience), but I wouldn't give that up for anything in the world. Pray for me that He makes me even BUSIER... :-)).Please log in to respond to this comment.
HI Christine, I am not religious (though believe in God) so am not really 'with' the whole Jesus thing, but I do believe you were brought to this man by unseen forces to help him...a real man. Many times we find ourselves in these situations (I know I do) and we choose to help or choose to walk away, that day you chose to help and it made a significant impact on that man's life and better still on your own too. Good articlePlease log in to respond to this comment.Thanks, CR. I am not religious either. I am Spiritual... :-). Religion says I was led to this guy to help him (he needed me and I was there for him). Spiritaulity says our "paths" crossed so we could learn from each other (I needed him as much he needed me at this specific point in our spiritual journeys). At least that's how I see it. I could be wrong..:-)).Please log in to respond to this comment.My apologies. Its CB, not CR.Please log in to respond to this comment.
Christine,
I really appreciate your comment about when a man cries, he is standing up from the inside. That is a cultural jewel that needs to be shared around the world! Thanks for sharing that awesome illustration from African culture. Be blessed!Please log in to respond to this comment.Joseph, haven't seen you around here for a while. There is a lot we of differnt cultures can learn from each other. I personally think that men should stand up from the inside more often. It makes their "emotional feet" strong, not weak. Nice to see you back here. Thanks & Blessings!Please log in to respond to this comment.
Christine, Thank you for sharing your powerful experience. You are an excellent communicator. I actually felt a saddness when I read your statement about no longer calling yourself a Christian or going to church. I totally agree that many of us Christian fall FAR short of our true calling in Christ, and I believe ALL of us do to some degree. Still, I am proud to be known as a Christian, a follower of Jesus, the Christ. And on Sunday when I am in church, assembled with other believers, you could probably find me "singing with my arms in the air", praising the Lord you saw. Perhaps my spirituality is as inferior to yours as you seem to suggest, but I am thrilled to be a "Christian" and have found active membership in a church invaluable to my spiritual life. I don't believe Jesus instituted the Church to be like it is, but neither do I believe that He intends for His followers to live outside it. Check out Hebrews 10:23-25 when you have opportunity. Keep listening to His voice. Respectfully yours.Please log in to respond to this comment.I hear you Dane. I am sorry if I seem to imply other ways of being "spirtual" are inferior to mine. That's not my intention at all. Please forgive me.
At least we can agree to disagree. My spiritual path is mine, my choice (thank God for free will). Yours is yours. I am happy for you that you are thrilled about it and find active membership in a church invaluable to your spiritual life. I am sure you can understand why I am thrilled about writting about my experience in my "church" too. It might be a little hard for some people to see it, but people like me feel more inside "out" here. That is because "outside" is relative depending on where your "inside" is. In what you call "inside the church" I feel like a total stranger. It's just not my place -- where I want to be.
And using your own words, my "church" is where I find "active membership." I ask myself every day, if Jesus where here today, WHERE WOULD HE BE FOUND? That's where I want to be found. That's where I want to be an "active member".
Please log in to respond to this comment.Christine, what a gracious response. Thank you. You are right about our freedom to choose. Praise God for it! I pray you choose wisely. I am not your Judge; I'm your brother. Be blessed in Him.Please log in to respond to this comment.You welcome Dane... :-)). I did not feel judged (I got a very tough skin an elephant would envy). I felt I had offended you and needed to apologize. I already chose wisely and my life is greatly blessed for it. And to those much is given, much is expected. Just trying to do my share... :-))Please log in to respond to this comment.
I can't stop appreciating your good work, though I am new and didn't even posted a single article as yet. This is another very touchy article which shares the 'reflection of Jesus' Love'. God Bless you.Please log in to respond to this comment."Reflection of Jesus' Love" I like that! I also I appreciate your comments about my work. Let me take this opportunity to welcome you to Searchwarp. You'll love the "community" here. See you around... :-))Please log in to respond to this comment.
I was very touched by your article, and I thank you very much for sharing your story.Please log in to respond to this comment.Thanks, Jeff. My apologies, should have acknowledged your comments earlier, but I thought I had. It's a good feeling to know that an experience like this touched another person. I believe this is how we're all connected. Many blessings!!!!Please log in to respond to this comment.
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