Isaiah

Isaiah was a parishioner where I once served. He dressed strangely and seemed lost, as if he did not know what was expected of him. Why did he come to church? He said, “To know God.” I liked Isaiah but sensed demons. A complaint was lodged, something Isaiah had said or done … “If you cannot behave, you cannot etc. etc.” … and Isaiah was gone. Some weeks later, someone saw Isaiah rooting about in a dumpster. I drove around looking for him, unsure what I would say … though prayerful that I would be given the words, when again I saw Isaiah.