Kindness sometimes wears red suspenders.
My son, Tim, and I had just flown from Chicago to Kansas and our GPS was struggling to locate the house of the guest we were trying to visit.
With a population of 858, McLouth is not exactly a major metropolis. Still, we were stymied. We were also hungry, had time to burn before our meeting, and decided to get something to eat before tackling the final GPS challenge.
Traveler, be warned. Dining choices in McLouth are scarce. We ended up munching on pork sandwiches from the local Casey's gas station. In the comfort of our Toyota Yaris, we observed a gentleman seated in a tan Chevy minivan. He wore black sweat pants, a purple shirt and blazing red suspenders.
“S'penders” went in and out of the Casey's gas station several times, each trip clutching a new lottery game card. Apparently, he would scratch off the (losing) numbers and then go back and buy another card. Resting on the front of his dashboard was a large white Texan hat. Curious fellow, this S'penders.
It was now time to show up at my friend's home, but the numbers on the houses we were seeing didn't appear to sequence with the address which I knew to be our destination.
I had to ask somebody–hopefully a local. But who? That's when S'penders expressed interest. I gave him the street address, which didn't ring a bell. So he asked in a stereotypical-good-guy-cowboy voice, “What's the name of the feller yir lookin' for?” We told him.
“He's just up the street—first house next to the big field.”
And it was so.
It's easy for us clean-shaven, clean-livin' Christian folk to write off characters like our friend, “S'penders.” But kindness comes in all shapes and sizes. And sometimes, it wears suspenders.
“Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness humility, gentleness and patience.” –Colossians 3:12