Call Him, Ezekiel

Ezekiel came to church totally smashed, looped, intoxicated, drunk. (Thank you Lord he was there). We talked.
He came the next week; not so drunk, but drunk still. Ezekiel (a pseudonym) is homeless, lives in a doorway, attended all the recent satellite fed meetings given by Mark Finley. The man has given his heart to the Lord. I wish you could hear the power of his witness and listen as he quotes Scripture. One of his greatest--if not the greatest--desires is to reach his fellow homeless friends with the Good News of Christ and His Love.
I thought I would do a good and generous thing and invite Ezekiel to Denny's for dinner after church because there was no potluck that week; so Denny's it was.
Ezekiel was shy about ordering but we insisted he get what he really wanted; and he did. I was out to play the part of a real missionary so I insisted he order a take-out for later or to share. (I'm really into the "feed the hungry" thing and feeling all warm and righteous about it by now). We leave Denny's.
Now there's just one more thing to do; have prayer with the man and send him off until we meet again at church next week.
I pray.
Then Ezekiel prays (caught me off guard with this).
My words were weak, sort of spineless and maybe a little rote.
But Ezekiel prayed. I could tell you what he prayed but I won't because it's too private, too honest, too deep, too sincere, too moving to desecrate by mere repetition.
So who was blessed?
I was!Deeply, indelibly, incredibly, permanently. Lord, help me to always remember the prayer of Ezekiel. I know You will.
Do this one thing: Pray for Ezekiel. God will know who you mean.
God, Bless Ezekiel and thank you for the blessing You sent me through Ezekiel!
e.c.