Don't Give Rides To Strangers

Old booze and cigarettes were his cologne
I could smell him from twenty feet away
His voice was loud and slurred
His feet they stumbled as he came
To ask me for a ride.

His stench made it hard for me to breathe
But I heard the voice of Jesus in my head
Saying Give him a ride, him and his girl
But I said, Lord

I don't give rides to strangers
Don't you know it's not safe.
But he said it again and though I argued with him
he just repeated Give him a ride

Three times Jesus asked me before I said yes
And they climbed into the back seat of my car
When the cussing grew too much
And I asked them to stop in the
Name of the Lord he cried.

He cried.
And he leaned in the window when I stopped to let them out
And he said "pray for me"
He said "pray for me"

All I saw was a drunken foolish stranger
But Jesus saw a man he died to save
And as I drove away I had to stop and pray
And give thanks. I gave thanks.
For letting me be part of that man's life
And showing me His heart for this one
That I would dismiss so easily.


I have often wondered if I'll meet him again
Some day on the other side.
Will I find him in heaven?
Will my prayers have played a part?
Will I be blessed again just because I gave him a ride?

I think of him often, this stranger.
And I pray for him each and every time.
I ask God to draw him, to reveal his love and bless him with good and precious things.

Based on actual events.