Stories of Love Is...

I first met Joe when we moved into Allison Hill in the summer of 2013. It was a funny story we became acquainted, actually. There were a lot of new faces at The Mansion that year. Several of those faces belonged to some young ladies who Joe seemed pretty excited about, if you know what I mean! After hearing several girls in the house share about “this guy in the alley who’s always whistling at them,” I proceeded to see what I could do to curb this unwelcome experience. It was the first of many interactions in which I’ve learned since living in the neighborhood that the only way to effectively communicate is directly!

I made my way to the alley behind our house, preparing myself to confront an idea of a man I had built up inside my head from the reports I’d been hearing. I saw it as a two-fold opportunity: to demonstrate to the household that I would have their back and to inform our neighbor that this was not okay! Immediately after turning down the alley, I see Joe. There about 50 feet from our house, sitting in a lawn chair, was an elderly black man whose smile revealed his total lack of teeth and whose bald head was brightly reflecting the hot sun overhead. He calls out to me, “Hey! You the boss man?” As I’m frantically trying to figure out how to tell this older gentleman that he’s the girls in my house feel uncomfortable, I simultaneously begin to feel overwhelmed with curiosity and intrigued as to this guy’s story.

Turns out, Joe wasn't some hardened guy living in a back alley of the hood. He exuded his uncanny joy in comparison to his surroundings. It was as if I was suddenly gifted with the ability to really see him. Within minutes, we hit it off, and I learned that the greatest desire he had throughout his lifetime was to be able to read the Bible. Through all of life's trials (and there have plenty to talk about), he always found a wayto connect to God, but his severe dyslexia and lack of education seemed to stonewall his eagerness to really learn about God for himself.

After getting to know Joe over the course of a few weeks, I knew that God was asking me to help him. I found out that "Joe" was also a name he used to protect himself while he did time in prison previosuly in his life. I knew the revelation of his true identity was an open door to establish something powerful in our relationship, so I rushed to a local bookstore, got a large-print Bible, embossed his name on it and invited him to come into my yard a few days later. 

When he showed up that day, we were to continue an informal Bible study we'd been having. Before we got started, I let him know I had a gift for him. He catiously looked up at me, all the while saying, "You don't need to give me anything." As he opened up the package, you could hear his voice trembling with joy as he read his own name out loud, "wayne Anthony McCloud." That day a miracle began to happen as, over the next few weeks, Joe began to be progressively healed of dyslexia -- an issue he'd struggled with for nearly 60 years at this point. 

To this day, Joe begins every day reading his Bible, aggresively highlighting and underlining anything he doesn't understand so he can ask me about it later, to make sure he doesn't miss a single detail. I haven't known too many people in my short life who love their Bible like Joe does. And that love would never have been observed had I not seen him as a fellow sojourner and brother, navigating life on a path well-lit by hope in Jesus. 

In the years since we first met, Joe has become a fixture at The Mansion, which he now proudly calls his 'church.' He’s taken full ownership of the grounds, regularly mowing the lawn with such passion that he jokingly gets upset if anyone else tries to step in! Beyond the yard, Joe’s heart for service truly shone during the pandemic when he began volunteering to deliver food boxes with Brethren Housing, a commitment to his neighbors that he faithfully continues to this day.