"MARAJUANA! WEED!" The man was shouting like he believed it, "CRACK! COCAINE!"

I paid attention, trying to catch a better glimpse of this man who was walking purposefully by my house. His voice boomed as if he was speaking to multitudes of eager listeners but actually there was no one around. He was walking by himself. He just kept calling out the names of street drugs…in perfect rhythm with his gait.

It was one of those odd scenes you see when you live on an urban corner. I tried to return to my studying but couldn't. He could have been high, maybe drunk, most likely ill. But I couldn't dismiss him from my mind. He was just so confident. Purposeful. Yelling things out even though no one was listening. His theme was constant, his voice unwavering.

This man seemed to have a mission and whether it was based in reality or not, his message was clear. He was going to list every substance that could empty both you wallet and your mind. I was compelled because if this was his task, he was succeeding with vigor.

And honestly…after he passed out of view, I felt a little convicted. Do I pour as much energy, work and passion into a message that's reality based and life giving as this man gave to his delusional proclamation of urban remedies?

Perhaps he was too ill to be ashamed of his behavior. Christ has afforded me too much healing to be ashamed of His blessing. Unlike this man who just marched by my brick row house, I am not informing the west-side of the names of hardcore street drugs. But like him, I have a message that confuses some and simply annoys a few others. The man's message ends here, nothing redeeming in an inventory of modern drugs. But the Gospel of Jesus Christ, though it might confuse for a season, is the Word of healing.

Maybe they'll laugh at me as I live out my life saying the name of Jesus. Some days, I assure you, no one listens. But I cannot do anything less than tell this story.

* all names and identifying details have been changed to protect anonymity. © Amy Beth Augustin Barlow 2003