God's Got Your Number

Caller ID showed the area code was 512. Should I answer? I am SO TIRED of companies trying to sell me stuff – and the church too. That’s the only disadvantage of keeping the church phone forwarded to my cell – I catch every sales call and a few really crazy calls, too.

I decided to answer. An older woman asked, “Is this the ‘little’ Methodist Church in Conroe?” I told her yes and asked her what I could do for her. “My son – he’s working but his truck broke down and he hasn’t been paid in four weeks and he’s hungry and he’s in the Motel 6 and he’s trying to earn enough to buy his own truck and I can’t get there until Friday and...and...and....”

I had to interrupt her. Run-on sentences don’t give a person time to process information. “Whoa...,” I said. “One thing at a time.” The lady paused, explained that her son was working for a company hanging cable wiring on poles and the company wouldn’t pay him. Not only that, but the company truck he was driving had no brakes and he was afraid to drive it to the store to buy groceries.

It sounded fishy to me. A creative new way to take advantage of the church, maybe? And then the woman said something that made all the difference. “We are members of the Methodist Church in [name of town] and you can call our pastor to verify this – I know how weird this sounds. Our son is hungry; will you help him?”

I did call the pastor of her church. He had known the mother and father for years – and especially their son who was stuck in the Motel 6 in Conroe. So Jerry and I went to the grocery store and bought several loaves of bread, stuff for sandwiches that didn’t have to be refrigerated, instant tea, and other food for a hungry son.

When we drove into the Motel 6, sure enough, there was the lineman’s truck with blocks beside the wheels to keep it from rolling. The story was true. The man answered the door when we knocked and after receiving the food asked, “Who ARE you?”

“A friend,” my husband answered. “Just a friend.”

I love the United Methodist Church. I love the “connection.” I love that a person who is a Methodist on the other side of Texas can call a tiny church in Conroe and know her child is fed.

Love in the Lord,
PH