Two months ago, a homeless guy I have never met in my life, driving from Florida to Ohio, with a beater car, a mutt, and $300 to his name runs out of gas in Alabama. Walking in the dark with a gas can, the cops stop him, call an ambulance, and have the guy taken to the hospital for a psyche evaluation. He ends up in the hospital for 3 days. Car is impounded (he doesn't know where), dog taken to a shelter (he doesn't know where). While trying to find his car and dog, gets the cheapest hotel (in my town) he can find while he tries to sort out the mess he's in. To help with the dwindling cash flow, he gets a job at Waffle House near the hotel. Come to find out, Waffle House wants him to start at their other location, some 7.6 miles in a neighboring town. He gets walking, where my wife, who has never picked up a stranger in her life, feels like helping, getting the guy to his job. Next night, while about to sit down to the juicy porkchop I have ever grilled, sidelined by creamy mash potatoes, my wife gets a text from this guy saying he's found his dog and would I please give him a ride across town to get Stevia back. I knew nothing about this guy, his life, his character, and so I hit my knees and asked God if I should help him. And I didn't get an answer from God. I didn't get a 'yes, go help' and I didn't get a 'no, don't go.' And when I don't get a clear answer from God, I know its Him saying essentially, 'it's your choice' So I chose to help (the porkchop could wait). I went and picked up this complete stranger and gave him a ride to the animal shelter, where he signed a promissory note to take his dog back into his care. He shed tears of joy and that puppy's tail was wagging like a Cessna propeller. The next day I help the guy go get his car from the impound. I say all of this not to boast of myself. I tell you this because there are other people out there in the world like me, and we love other people and love to have meaningful relationships.