of
our Lord Jesus Christ, through which
the
world has been crucified to me,
and
I to the world.
Galatians 6:14
When a Christian sees a replica of the cross
of Christ, whether it be hanging in a church or around someone’s neck, it
serves as a reminder of the price paid for our salvation, our freedom and our
hope. We have a small white cross, a gift from a friend in The Cross Ministry,
hanging on the fence across the front of our property. We also have a metal
cross hanging on the gate to our driveway.
One morning I looked out my window and saw
a young man sticking his fingers through the chain link on the gate; testing
out the temperament of our dog. A young woman stood behind him on the edge of
the road. Still in my pajamas, I cracked the door open enough to ask if I could
help them.
He replied that their car battery died and
he needed help charging it and asked if I had any jumper cables. I did not see
a car so I asked where it was, assessed the situation, and prayed a quick
prayer for wisdom and after dressing and pulling the jumper cables from the
trunk of my car, I asked them to get in.
As we drove the short distance to the
house where their car sat, Jason began telling me his story. The huge gash
across the top of his nose and the slight bruising on his face was enough to
convince me he was telling the truth.
He and his girlfriend Katie were homeless;
living randomly with whomever would give them a place to sleep. All their
belongings lay strewn inside the trunk and across the back seat of the beat up
small red car that would not start. He explained that he was jobless and
awaiting trial on a “felony charge”. He extolled his innocence and discussed
how the other two involved in the crime made a deal to blame him in exchange
for their own freedom. He could not leave the area until after the trial but
was anxious to get back to Fort Worth because “everyone here is evil”.
He told the story of being recently beaten
up and having his phone and wallet taken. Katie appeared nervous and said
nothing.
After his car started, we talked while
waiting for the battery to charge. He explained how he tried to get help from
the neighbor. “She came to the door but would not open the screen!” He
understood that he looked pretty rough and that she could have been afraid. So
Jason and Katie began walking down the road trying to find someone to help. I
don’t know why, but his next statement surprised me, “When I saw the cross, I
knew you would help me!”
I
asked if I could pray with them. He said yes, but she was not excited about
hearing anyone pray as she sat inside behind the steering wheel. He told me she
was evil. I knew they needed Jesus. Finally, on the verge of tears, she joined us
and I began to pray. The first thing I asked of my Heavenly Father was to help
them see Jesus and invite Him to be their Savior if they had not already done
that. I asked God to meet their needs and thanked him for the opportunity to
help someone.
Before we parted, I invited them to visit
our church, gave them my phone number and a hug. For the remainder of that day
and many days after, I prayed for God’s mighty intervention in their situation.
I will probably never see Jason and Katie
again. I will probably never discover the resolution to their situation. But
there is one thing of which I am sure—they came to me because of the Cross. No
matter how little I might have impacted their lives, I have never forgotten
Jason’s words which impacted mine, “When I saw the cross, I knew you would help
me!”
Later in the day, as I told the story to
my sweet husband, I could see the look of anxiety spreading rapidly across his
face. “Honey, don’t you think that might have been a little dangerous,” his
protectiveness raised the decibels of his voice. I responded with a “maybe” but…
Two crosses
on our fence proclaim to the world that we believe in the Christ of Calvary.
Those small symbols speak volumes. Just like Jason, I know there is hope and help
at the Cross.
©JP 2013
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