step stool

I don't even know how to start this one.

My eyes are still soaked in tears. My vision is blurry. My nose is running. My head is pounding.

I can't stop crying.

My heart is breaking. It is breaking.

I'm trying to catch my breath, but with every thought I have of tonight, I lose it. I lose my breath.

Like a Destiny's Child song gone terribly wrong, I lose my breath.


Finally... that made me smile a little. (I know... bad joke, but I needed it.)

As I catch my breath, let me start over...



I watched a movie with a friend tonight... totally normal. I left her house to head back to mine and I had to drive through downtown Naperville to do so. I figured I would stop to see if one of my friends was working who had recently gotten a job at Starbucks.

I parked a ways away and made the walk to her location. When I got there I could hear yelling from around the corner. I quickly glanced over and saw some teenagers, so I figured it was a bunch of kids messing around.

I walked into Starbucks to find out my friend wasn't working. Slightly bummed, I walked out and began to head back to my car.

But before I walked any further, I stopped, turned around, and decided to see what all the yelling was about around the corner.

My heart broke.


I had a feeling when I heard the yelling, but I was hoping I was wrong.

I wasn't.

There was a man on a step stool yelling to the passer-byers or "sinners," as he referred to them, that they needed to turn to Jesus or they were going to burn in hell.

Over and over again he kept yelling Jesus' name... surrounded by tons of people, mostly young, he kept telling them they were going to burn in hell.

"How is this helping?" I thought.

People were crowded around. Some staring, some laughing, some swearing at him.

I watch for a minute and I realize I can't just stand there and watch. But I can't just walk away.

So I walk up to him.

"Excuse me, sir..."

He stops yelling and he looks down at me.

"Can I ask you a question?"

He says yes as he stands tall up there on his step stool.

"Do you mind if I ask what you are are doing... or I mean... why you are yelling... I mean... maybe you could just explain to me..." I stumble over my words, but he gets what I am trying to ask.

"Yes m'am," he says, "I'm preaching the word of God."

Well, I figured that much.

"But where in the Bible does it say to stand on the street corner and yell at people as they walk by to turn or burn?"

He gets testy with me and quotes something from the Old Testament about shouting it from the roof tops.

I won't disagree that that verse is in the Bible somewhere (apparently in the Old Testament), but I respond that Jesus was (is) a very relational man.

"He formed relationships with people."

The step stool preacher gets frustrated with me and says that the Godly way to witness is to stand up and shout it... that all Christians are called to do it, and if I love sinners, I will do it too.

"What about the woman at the well, Zacheus, all these people that Jesus met with one on one... right where they were at?"

He ignores what I have to say and asks if I know the Bible.

I say I do, but I have a feeling I don't know it as well as this guy... something else that makes me sad.

I ask him how standing on a street corner yelling at people and pointing out their sins is at all making God appealing.

He again quotes something from the Old Testament, and just as confident as he can be tells me that the Bible says to do what he is doing.

I look up at him, wishing I had a stool, and ask, "but the Bible also says to take the log out of your own eye before you take the speck out of your neighbours... so who are you to stand up here and tell these people of their sins?"

He says something to the affect of already haven taken the log out of his own eye and now he must show people the speck in theirs.

"This is what Christ did... He showed them their sins," he says.

"Right!" I say, "Right! Christ! Christ did! We are not Christ!"

I already know what his response is going to be...

"No... but we are Christians, and do you know what that means? That means little Christ. Little Christ, m'am."

"Right..." I say, "little Christ... little Christ. We are called to be Christ like... not to be Christ. Christ like."

I ask him how many people have asked him to be saved tonight.

"None."

I tell him I bet if I were to take any one of these people listening to him to go sit down inside, have a cup of coffee with them, and listen to their story, they might be more open to what I have to say than if I were to stand on a street corner and yell at them.

He gets annoyed with me and tells me that I don't know God and I don't know the Bible. He repeatedly tells me I am wrong and that I don't know the Godly way.

I continue to try and ask questions, and give my opinion, but he constantly interrupts me and talks over me, not even really open to what I have to say.

Jesus would have listened to what I have to say. I'm glad this guy's not Jesus.

As people begin to get closer to hear what I am saying, he says he's not going to discuss it with me any more. "God bless you, m'am" and he continues to "preach."

I pause, and I look at him. I realize that this is not a discussion I am going to win, nor do I think this is something that God wants me to win. It's hard for me to not feel the need to prove myself. But I knew I didn't need to. I said what I thought. I left it at that.

I started to walk away and as I did, a young man started yelling "HEY... HEY..." When I turned around I saw him running toward me. When he got up to me he stuck out his hand. "Thank you," he said, and he shook my hand. "Thank you very much."

We both smiled.

I knew he knew my Jesus. He knew I knew his.

As I started to walk away I tried so hard to hold in the tears. I had a ways to go and quite a few windows to pass before reaching my car. I pass Mongolian Bar-B-Q and I just make it past Jimmy's Grill... but as soon as I hit the middle of the cross walk, I lose it.

I knew I had to make it past the Lantern. I tried so hard to suck in my breath and hold it all in just one more time. "Make it past these people," I think to myself, "just make it past these people." It was the first time I didn't like the Illinois smoking law. "Why can't they all just be inside?"

I make it through the smoke and I get to the bridge on Washington Street. The street lights were dim and it felt safe enough to cry.

I cried for that man on the step stool, but mostly I cried for the people listening to him. The people who thought this man represented Jesus' character.

I don't know if I can honestly say that my heart has ever broken for God's people before... for those who don't know Him.

Tonight... my heart broke for them.

I wanted them to know Jesus. I really wanted them to know Jesus. The real Jesus.

I got in my car and I cried.

As I drove off, I prayed...

"Dear Lord, please show that man on his step stool and me who You are because I have a feeling we both have it wrong in some way. Show us both who you are. Show those people who you are. Show us all."

...................


So that was last night.

To be honest, looking back, I am somewhat surprised I was that upset.

I am a selfish person. The fact that my heart was breaking that much for other people and not for something done to me... I'll be honest... it surprised me.

But I'm so grateful. I'm so, so grateful... because I know that wasn't about me and my heart breaking... it was about God and His heart breaking for His people.

I remember at church one night praying "God, break my heart for the things that break yours."

I prayed that prayer unsure of what it looked like.



Last night I saw a little step stool on the corner of Jefferson and Main... and my heart broke.