Have you ever been suspicious when someone was nice to you?
Have you ever thought, okay… what do you want from me?
Have you ever been offered something good and immediately assumed there was a hidden price, a favor owed, or a future guilt trip attached?
Same.
I went to visitation last week to see my husband Stephen, who is currently in prison. And if you have never experienced prison visitation, let me tell you, it is a spiritual workout. You wake up early, dress modest but not depressing, sit in plastic chairs that were clearly designed by someone who hates comfort, and try to pretend this is normal family time.
Every few months, the prison has a food sale. This time, the featured item was Carl’s Jr. Which is basically Michelin-star dining compared to regular prison food. Stephen was excited. When it comes to food, he believes in abundance. Not just for himself, but for everyone around him. He is the kind of man who makes sure his belly is full and so is the belly of every person within arm’s reach.
This is ironic, because he married me. I am frugal. Not cheap. Frugal. There is a difference. Cheap people do not tip. Frugal people tip but complain about it in the car afterward. Over the years, Stephen has softened me. He has taught me generosity, while I have taught him how to stretch a dollar until it cries for mercy. We have balanced each other beautifully.
Stephen ordered a bunch of hamburgers. He passed them out to his closest friends, because that is who he is. Then he looked over at his neighbor, a man who is 93 years old and has been incarcerated for over 60 years. Sixty years. That number alone sits heavy.
Stephen asked him if he would like a hamburger.
The man said no.
Not because he was not hungry.
Not because he did not like Carl’s Jr.
But because he said, “I do not want to owe you anything.”
That sentence broke my heart.
Stephen told him, “You do not owe me anything. I just want to give this to you.”
The man responded, “I have never had someone just want to give me something. There has to be a catch.”
Imagine living so long in survival mode that kindness feels suspicious. Imagine believing generosity always comes with strings. Imagine thinking grace is a trick.
Stephen assured him there was no catch. The man still did not believe him and refused the hamburger. So Stephen pivoted, because that is what love does. He said, “How about this. Let me just pray with you.”
The man replied, “I know your Jesus. He does not care for me.”
If that does not punch you in the chest, I do not know what will.
Stephen told him he would love to tell him more about Jesus’ grace. Not judgment. Not threats. Grace. The man agreed to listen sometime in the future. Then he paused, took the hamburger, and said, “I will only take this if you eat with me.”
Stephen did not want to eat. He was about to go to visitation with family and trust me, prison visitation food is elite compared to what the inmates get. But he sat down anyway and ate a small hamburger with the man.
And that is where the sermon was preached.
No pulpit.
No microphone.
Just two men sharing a hamburger.
I think a lot of us are like that 93-year-old man. We hear about Jesus and think, He does not care about me. We assume we are too far gone, too messy, too sinful, too late. We think grace must have an expiration date or a fine print clause.
We believe love always comes with conditions because that is what life has taught us.
But the truth is this. Jesus does care. He has never left you. He has never forsaken you. He sees every tear you cry in secret. He understands the parts of your story you do not even know how to explain. He is not shocked by your past, disappointed by your present, or threatened by your questions.
If Jesus can use my husband, a man in prison, to show grace to a 93-year-old inmate who has spent most of his life behind bars, imagine how much He has not given up on you.
You are not forgotten.
You are not disqualified.
You are not beyond grace.
Sometimes the gospel looks like a hamburger with no catch. Sometimes it looks like someone sitting with you when they do not have to. Sometimes it looks like kindness that does not demand repayment.
The lesson we can all learn is simple but hard. Receive grace. Give grace. Stop assuming love has strings. Be the kind of person who offers something with no catch. And when someone tells you Jesus does not care, be living proof that He does.
Remember you are my lovers, whether you love me or love to hate me you are still my lover!
Don’t forget Jesus loves you and so do I!