He was wearing a long trench coat that was nearly in shreds, and the hat on his head was pulled down so you could not see his face. His shoes looked 30 years old with holes all over them, too small for his feet so his toes stuck out. I assumed this man was homeless, and asleep, so I walked on by through the doors of the church.

We all fellowshipped for a few minutes, and someone mentioned the man outside. People snickered and gossiped but no one, including me, bothered to ask him to come in.

Soon it was time for the worship service to begin. As we waited for the Preacher to take his place and bring us the Word, the doors to the church opened. In came the homeless man ... shuffling along the aisle with his head down. People gasped and whispered and made faces. He made his way up to the pulpit where he took off his hat and coat.

My heart sank. There stood our preacher ... he was the "homeless man". No one said a word.

The preacher took his Bible and laid it on his stand. "Folks, I don't think I have to tell you what I am preaching about today."

Author unknown
 Contributed by a good friend