LITMIR.BIZ

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hotel.

      it was hot

      and every window was rolled down.

      and i asked him,

      “what is the one word

      that describes your life?”

      “can i give you two?”

      he said.

      he was old and gnarled,

      about as beat up as his cab.

      “yes,” i said.

      “what are they?”

      “bored

      and unhappy.”

      “sir,

      why are those the two words

      that describe your life?”

      “i don’t know.

      i guess ‘cause

      i got nobody in the world.”

      “nobody, sir?

      no wife, no children, no family?

      no one in the whole world for you?”

      “no.”

      “tell me, sir,

      how did you get to be an old man

      and have nobody?”

      “ ‘cause i never got a good job

      and no woman wanted me.”

      “sir,

      can i sing you a song?”

      “sing?”

      “i don’t have a very good voice,

      but i know you’d like my song.”

      “just a minute, please”

      he rolled up his window,

      then he nodded at me.

      and i began to sing:

       something beautiful,

       something good.

       all my confusion

       He understood.

       all i had to offer Him

       was brokenness and strife.

       but He’s making something beautiful

       out of my life.

      “sir,

      do you know who i’m singing about?

      Jesus Christ, He’s the Lord of my life

      He laughs with me

      and cries with me—”

      “i’m a jew.”

      “sir, He’ll walk with you

      He’ll laugh with you.

      He’ll be your friend.”

      and just then we pulled under the portico of the next hotel

      and i was fumbling in my purse for my money

      when i saw this old hand reach out

      and i let loose of the money in my purse.

      i reached out and took his hand

      almost afraid to look him in the eye

      because i didn’t know what he would say.

      i lifted my eyes to his

      and he was crying.

      “lady,

      when i got in this old cab tonight

      i was the loneliest person in the whole world.

      i never heard anyone talk like you talked tonight

      and i want your God.

      He and i could ride together.”

      and i crawled out of that old cab

      knowing that somewhere in miami beach

      an old, gnarled, wrinkled man

      drives a beat up old cab.

      but he doesn’t drive alone.

      and i can hardly help but sing

      when i know that the eternal God

      is willing to invade an old cabbie’s life

      and love him.

homesick gi

      i boarded a plane in san antonio

      and i had been speaking to 500 teenagers that week

      and i was exhausted.

      i asked the stewardess,

      “would you mind if i had a seat by myself,

      i’m just so exhausted.”

      she said she understood

      and she put me by a window

      with the whole row cleared of everybody else.

      i looked out the window,

      i was going home,

      and i love to go home.

      i was going home knowing that 500 teenagers in texas

      believed with me for my world.

      and the sky was yellow and orange

      and the sun was setting.

      there were other people on board

      but i just started to sing:

       this is my story

       this is my song.

       i really felt like singing.

       praising my Saviour

       all the day long.

       oh Jesus,

       i want to sing about you.

       i want people to hear me

       sing about you.

       this is my story

       this is my song.

       praising my Saviour

       all the day long.

      and out of the clear blue sky

      i heard a man’s voice say,

      “uh, ma’am,

      do you hate to leave san antonio?”

      and i turned around

      and there was a young kid

      and i wondered where he came from.

      “uh-uh,

      i don’t mind at all.

      do you sir?”

      “yes, ma’am, i do.”

      his face got sober.

      “you see, i just got back from viet nam

      about two weeks ago

      and i saw two of my best buddies

      murdered

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