I am in Indianapolis tonight.

This morning, the Center City Corps with Pastor Loretta in charge.  Men and women from the streets of Indianapolis.  Mothers and children from the Salvation Army’s programs next door in the shelter, Carpenter House and Barton House.  A husband and wife, business professionals, who walk to the corps from just a few blocks away. 

The chapel is not large, cluttered, in a building that long ago saw better days as a place for traditional Salvation Army worship and life.  Life that was part of a time and place which no longer exists in America. 

But this morning, crowded with people who come to meet with one another and with God who opens his hand and satisfiest the desire of every living thing. 

Pastor Loretta leads the service.  She knows who to call on to share their testimony.  An old man with a walker who has just given up not only whiskey and beer, but cigarettes as well.  He says the Lord whupped him.

A woman, younger, bright eyed.  She returned this morning.  Three years now both she and her husband have been clean of drugs.  She testifies to God’s grace, helping them.  She is grateful.  Her bright eyes  suddenly brim with tears and her lips tremble as she says this.

At the end of the meeting a man steps up to pass me a slip of paper.  Tomorrow he is entering the Army’s Adult Rehabilitation Center here in Indy for treatment of his alcoholism.  He’s been told that he won’t have access to a phone for some time.  He’s heard that I’m from Chicago.  He asks me to contact his mother who lives on the southside.  I have a name and a phone number.  He wants her to know he’s okay.

Another man is waiting to talk to me.  He shares his concern about the future of the Center City Corps and Pastor Loretta. 

Another man.  He thanks me for the sermon and talks about his struggle and day by day dealing with alcoholism and being bipolar.  He is grateful for each day and the grace he receives from the God who hears his pleas.

The eyes of all wait upon thee and thou openest thy hand in due season.   Amen.