There’s a summer read that has found a permanent home on my bookshelf.
That doesn’t mean it won’t find its way into the hands of friends, but like anything that touches your heart, you hope is it’ll find its way back again.
The book, Same Kind of Different As Me crossed my path at an airport book store between connecting flights.
It may have been the cover, scrawled in an interesting font that attracted me. For certain, I didn’t know it had anything spiritual within the pages.
Even the tease, “a modern-day slave, an international art dealer, and the unlikely woman who bound them together,” sounded more like a New York Times bestselling thriller than a true story.
But once I opened book, I was enthralled with the factual tale, told in the very different voices of Ron Hall, who typically dressed in Armani and Chanel, and Denver Moore who daily wore filth and rags. Between the two they weave a heartrending narrative of how hope, love and faith changed both their lives.
Reading this account about homelessness and unconditional love has shown me that a down-and-out person can be transformed.
It has also renewed my hope that prayers for a friend’s son will someday be answered; a man who has done time, ridden the rails and slept in the grunge of the streets, a casualty of addiction.
In my mind’s eye, I can still see the gentle tow-headed boy who played together with my little girls almost four decades ago. He was a deeply loved child who snuggled his reddish-brown puppy, rode his brightly painted bicycle and sang “Jesus Loves Me” at Sunday school.
I believe that’s the way God sees him, too — the innocent heart that we hope will someday come home.
And even if homelessness is one of those topics often thought to be better left down at the Union Gospel Mission than sitting on a sofa table, nevertheless, that’s exactly where it belongs.
Same Kind of Different As Me has a home at my place. I hope it will at yours, too.