I am confident that in just a short time, our best stories will be about God transforming lives of people who are becoming devoted to Jesus and growing in community as they share Christ with others around them! For now, the best stories are of how God is opening doors, choosing which people and when we begin those relationships. This one’s about a guy I’ll call Memo (I’ve changed his name).

After I broke my ankle, I was really depressed. A big part of that was wondering why God had allowed a huge STOP sign to enter into the stream of relationship-building that I had been involved in with ferocity. Not only did it stop me from going out every day and visiting or doing things with other moms in the neighborhood, but it prevented Phil from having the time to commit to the people he had been getting to know because he had to be home much of the time to care for me and the boys. We felt frustrated because we couldn’t be working to form and build relationships like we wanted. No “street-work” was getting done…or so we thought!

One evening (about 11:00 at night) I was lying in bed feeling useless. Phil was working in the other room on some long overdue emails and administrative work. All of a sudden we heard gunshots ring out on the street outside, with a car screeching away down our block right afterward. Then I heard Phil’s feet pounding down the stairs and the door slam behind him as he ran out to investigate.

What Phil discovered a few buildings down from us was a young man lying on the sidewalk, cradled in the arms of his mother and surrounded protectively by a group of his friends. Phil asked if anyone had gotten through to 911 (“No, I’m getting a busy signal!” was everyone’s reply) and as he talked, made his way cautiously to the teen. There was blood from the surface wound on his head, and more from the wounds to his elbow and back. Kneeling down, Phil took his hand and asked, “What’s your name”? “Memo”, he said. Phil began to pray. He prayed and Memo and his Mom joined in. At one point, one of Memo’s friends tried to stop the prayer, but Phil was able to make eye contact with him and the Lord gave them an instant connection of understanding. He began to pray again, and continued until the ambulance arrived. Afterward, Phil was able to talk with Memo’s friends, father, and other neighbors. He arrived home and washed the blood off his hands. We prayed again for Memo and our neighborhood.

We were reminded that night of how it is Christ’s church, and HE is building it (Matthew 16:18). Even if He decides to use us in the building process, it doesn’t make it ours, and frankly, He will build it even when we are unreliable, unwilling, or simply out of commission for a time! Phil and I often have wondered how we would penetrate into this particular sub-culture of our neighborhood which includes the youth, often those with gang affiliations or at least a history of partying with them. We knew it would come somehow, but were thinking it would be through a more “round about” connection, like a neighbor who knows many of these guys. Well, we were wrong. God chose the moment, and of course, it was a more powerful and effective introduction than anything we might have imagined.

Because of that one night’s events, we have been getting to know Memo and his “homies”. Some are open to us. Memo even called Phil his “angel” the next time they saw each other, saying that the prayers were all he could think about going into surgery and the only thing that got him through the night. For the first time in six months of living here we are able to do more than say “hi” with a smile as we pass by their stoop hangout. We can now stop and talk with these young guys, calling them by name and asking about their kids or their jobs. They have assured us that if we need anything or as they put it, if anyone “messes with us” we can call on them. A picture of Memo and his “girl” hangs on the refrigerator. He handed it to us through the window of our van one day when we slowed down to chat as we passed him by. It reminds me to pray for them, and for this new relationship-the new door that God himself opened for his message of hope to walk through.

This is Christ’s church, and HE alone will build it. Laying in bed with a broken ankle with our time sucked away by the distractions of life, I realized through Memo that God will orchestrate every moment of this journey, I do not have to worry. Every soul on our street has a name, and the Lord knows it. It is written on His heart. Memo has another name too. It’s his street-name…”Lost”. I think God wants to change it!

Categories: stories
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