Yesterday I had coffee with a homeless man named Peter. Well, I should say that I had coffee while he drank hot water with cinnamon and suger in it (i offered to buy him a drink, but he declined). Those of you who frequent coffee shops in the Crescent Hill area have probably seen him before.

Peter claims that he hears voices. Periodically he would stick his fingers in his ears- presumably to tune out the noise of the busy coffee shop to better hear them. He asked me a couple of times if I thought that the voices might be God or some of his angels. At one point he asked me if I was Jesus, and I informed him that I wasn't.

He also asked me if he could come home with me, and I explained that I couldn't.

Maybe Jesus would have, but I'm not there yet.