Sometimes life has a way of putting us exactly where we’re supposed to be—even when we don’t see it coming.

I had been on the road, driving 150 miles, when my gas light came on. Hungry and tired, I pulled off an exit and spotted a McDonald’s. I hadn’t eaten since a Pop-Tart the night before, so I figured it was as good a place as any to grab a bite. But the truth is, I wasn’t just stopping for myself.

As I walked toward the door, I noticed a man coming in at the same time. He was holding a simple plastic cup. I smiled and asked, “Are you having lunch, sir?”

He shook his head. “No, sir,” he said quietly. “I’m just getting some water. I’ll get to eat tomorrow. I just got out of the hospital and walked here.”

That’s when I noticed the hospital band still around his wrist. His name was Rocky.

I didn’t even hesitate. Something in me knew this moment wasn’t a coincidence. “Well, Rocky,” I told him, “I was sent here to have lunch with you today.”

He blinked, looking shocked, and then protested: “I can’t—I have no money.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s alright,” I said. “I’m here to take care of it.”

What happened next is something I’ll never forget. Rocky turned, looked around the whole restaurant, and announced in a booming voice:

“This man is buying me lunch!”

The joy in his voice was so raw, so genuine, that it filled the room like sunlight breaking through clouds. People looked up from their meals, and smiles spread across every face. For a moment, a McDonald’s full of strangers shared in Rocky’s gratitude.

And I couldn’t help but wonder—what if I hadn’t asked? What if I had just walked past him, assuming he was fine, and let him leave with only water and an empty stomach?

How many Rockys walk through this world every day—overlooked, ignored, quietly carrying hunger and loneliness while the rest of us rush by?

Rocky’s joy wasn’t small. It was the kind of joy that comes from being seen, from being cared for, from realizing that in a world where you’ve been forgotten too often, someone finally stopped and said, you matter.

We talk about the homeless, about those with special needs, about the ones who slip through the cracks of society. Too often, they are treated as problems to solve instead of people to love. And yet, time and again, I’ve seen that many of them are the most tender-hearted among us. Grateful. Loving. Honest.

Rocky reminded me of that. His gratitude wasn’t polished or quiet—it was loud, unfiltered, real. And in that moment, it touched everyone around him.

I went to McDonald’s that day just looking for a meal. Instead, I walked out with a story, a memory, and a reminder that God really does set up our appointments if we’re willing to notice.

Rocky made my week. I hope, in some small way, he makes yours too.