"Are you the minister?" he asked as I came through the courtyard toward the entrance of the church. I wanted to say no, because there were dozens of things that needed my attention that Monday morning when I got to work.

With a bit of dumb resentment at the interruption of my planned agenda, I acknowledged that I was one of the pastors of that downtown church. He followed me into the office complex.

"What can I do for you?" I asked, hoping that a meal ticket or perhaps a quick referral to another helping agency of the city would suffice.

"God is sending me to Florida and I need a bus ticket," he replied.

I usually steered away from any theological discussions with transients who came by our church, but I couldn’t resist this one. I was tempted to ask him why God had made no provisions for his …