I Have a Friend Named David
I have a friend named David. He lives in an orange grove. He lives in a tent. Most people would say he is homeless. And I would have to agree except David’s real home is 1041 Corporate Drive. That’s the address of the church I pastor.
I have a friend named David. He rarely changes his clothes. His hygiene is almost non-existent . David smells bad too. When I talk to him, I am greeted by the odor of cigarettes and Bud light beer. People don’t like to sit near him in church. I’ve even heard people don’t want to worship God when David is near.
I have a friend named David. He comes to church every week. He comes on Friday night to hear the worship team rehearse for the next day. He comes back again the following day, for both services. He sits through CrossWalk U. where we talk theology and philosophy. David tells us about the night Jesus Christ walked into his tent and talked to him—and he wasn’t even doing drugs. He tells us this story, again, and again, and again. David loves our church. David prays for our church—every night.
I have a friend named David. He’s a former drug addict. He’s an alcoholic. His mind is gone. At times he doesn’t remember my name, my wife’s name, or my kid’s names. What does David remember? He remembers how his mother died when he was young. How his wife left him in Colorado and broke his heart. He remembers that he used to do the “hard stuff, but not anymore”, as he says. He remembers to tell me these stories every time I see him, as if it’s the first time. And David remembers, that every week when he gets to church there’s warm coffee waiting for him, sometimes a bagel and donuts too. Continue reading 'I Have a Friend Named David'»














