Not just a Survivor

Two. That's the number of times I've sent audition videos in to Survivor. I used to be a huge fan. In the course of over 10 years I rarely missed a show. I wanted so badly to be on that show. And after every season a good number of the props would go up for auction on eBay (another one of my favorite things.) Unfortunately for me, the prices that the props brought were always outrageous. Today, however, I finally bought some. A guy on craigslist sold me props that he had previously paid over $1,700 for for $100. That's what you call depreciation.

Can you believe that God baited me with Survivor props? He did and that's how I met Bob, at least that's what we are going to call him in this blog. Bob was 50 years old, overweight, a slow talker with glassy eyes and Bob wanted to talk, so we talked. Some people have no one to talk to. I have the feeling that a lot of people have given up on Bob. Most people probably consider him to be a lost cause. Bob was selling all of his stuff because he was being foreclosed on and had no where to go. He hadn't paid his mortgage in months and the IRS was after him for back taxes. He had spent all of the money that he had and all of the money that he didn't have. Cash advances, credit cards, bank accounts, all exhausted. $250,000 spent on crack. He told me that he wasn't smoking crack anymore but was now addicted to prescription drugs. He had taken so many for so long they didn't do much for him anymore. In fact, he had taken some a few hours ago. On top of his drug problems he had mental issues, suffered from depression, and had physical problems. I could hear the hopelessness in every word. He said that when he ran out of money he would probably end up overdosing and that would be the end of him. He would have no money and he would have no home so what was the point?

Bob needed someone to listen. He also needed someone to encourage him and at that moment in time, that person was me. I told him that there is hope and that no matter how bad he thinks his life is, no matter how little he ends up having, there were people in the world who are much worse off than him. I told him about the kids that I had met in India, homeless and like him, drug addicted. I told him about the happy families that lived in houses smaller than his garage. He told me that he didn't think he would live until he was 30 and now that he was 50 but he was certain that he couldn't possibly live much longer. I told him he was wrong the first time and perhaps he would be saying the same thing at 75.

"You can make it," I said.
"You think," he replied.
"Absolutely."

Say a prayer for Bob (even though that's not his real name God will know who your talking about.) I invited him to church and you never know. He could come. In God's eyes there's no such thing as a lost cause.