A God Story

Friday afternoon Miranda, Lisa, and Becky had made a crazy trip to Winco loading up 2 grocery carts full of food. There were some inquisitive looks and questions by others at the sight of three gals having fun loading up on groceries donated by some families from our church family.

I was getting a bit nervous because all I had was an address given to me by a school nurse of an apparently single mom in need. What if she wasn’t home? What if she would be offended? What if she doesn’t care? What if’s filled my head. I called Jake, and Steve, and we loaded up the groceries taking Becky with us.

After having trouble finding the place (thanks to google maps) we found the street and cluster of apartments. I have to confess I felt a bit silly and extreme going to all this trouble and getting others to go to all this trouble to get some groceries to a specific location without knowing if they were even home.

I was relieved to hear some stirring as I knocked on the door with no porch light tucked in the back of the complex. A very confused mother in her 40’s along with her 12 year old daughter answered the door. It was a weird moment. Me and my mother in law, white suburbanite middle class America standing in front of a Hispanic single mother and her 12 year old daughter at 8 o’clock at night. There was an awkward pause as I tried to explain to her I was a pastor (that one is always a shocker) and then I simply told her we were wanting to bless them. She invited us in and I noticed a painting of a man praying over some bread, and sensed some excitement in Sara her 12 year old daughter. I also noticed they were having Peanut Butter and Jelly for dinner.

Jake and Steve backed up the truck and we started bringing groceries in. Once they were unloaded I could just see Udella the mother beginning to fight back tears. I asked her how we could pray and she said her daughter had been sick for a long period of time. I began to pray and could feel the presence of the Holy Spirit so thick in the moment. Udella began to freely cry, and her daughter began to cry as I prayed for them. I was trying to choke back tears while I prayed but there was no use. We found ourselves smack dab in the middle of a moment with the living God. All I know is that God likes to show up in moments like these. I felt like Peter seeing before his eyes the Holy Spirit working as he went to a place he wasn’t used to going. I realized then and there that when the ministry and message of reconciliation are united, the Holy Spirit brings it hard. He penetrated all of our hearts that night.

I wonder when Jesus said, “do this in remembrance of me” as He broke bread with the disciples, if He was not alluding to more than a ritual. A ritual absolutely as we remember Him, but perhaps more. Maybe He was saying, be broken and poured out as I have been broken and poured out for you, “do this in remembrance of me.” “He who seeks to save his life will lose it”, and “he who loses his life will find it.”