“Why do you have locks on your
refrigerator?” The question held a hint of sarcasm laced with genuine
curiosity. Ellie looked up from the
smoothie she was blending for the girl and laughed. “Oh, they were for Jakey. A few years ago he used to wake up super
early in the morning and steal junk food.”
Ellie turned back to the blender
and pulsed it a few more times. Even
though it had been nearly two years ago, she remembered it like it was
yesterday. Right after she and her
husband had brought home the new baby, three year old Jacob had begun his early
morning “experiments”. One morning he
had stolen ice cream and chocolate syrup from the freezer and turned his bedroom
into an ice cream sundae. Hence the
locks.
Ellie took the lid from the blender
and sloppily poured the thick purplish liquid into a neon cup. Every time the girl came over, she always
requested smoothies. Ellie liked this
because it gave her a chance to sneak some vegetables into her diet.
The girl, a dark haired
pre-teenager, laughed at the story and sipped from the cup. She made a face. “Straw?” she requested.
“Oh sorry,” exclaimed Ellie. She supposed the straw was half the
experience, so she grabbed one quickly from the cupboard and handed it to the
girl. The girl sipped again then said,
“We used to have locks on our refrigerator too.
But it was because we weren’t allowed to eat.” She sipped again, with a little more vigor,
like she might actually be afraid Ellie would take the drink away.
“What?!” exclaimed Ellie. “Not allowed to eat?”
The girl treated it like it was a
little thing. “Nope. My sister and I had to sneak food when they
were sleeping. I used to get so thirsty
I’d go outside and eat snow.”
Ellie stepped over and hugged the girl
tightly. She was at a loss for
words. “I-I’m sorry,” was all she could
muster.
“Ehh,” said the girl, like it
wasn’t a big deal. Ellie squeezed her
shoulders again. “Praise God it isn’t
like that now.”
The girl sighed,
“Yeah,” she said. “I’m glad I don’t live
there anymore.”
Ellie was saddened by this
exchange, but she wasn’t surprised. “There” was a place called “The Community.”
The Community was a HUD housing project located in the city. It was a hotbed of drugs, gangs, and
anger. In the midst of it, The Community
was crawling with children; the innocents who always seemed to be in the
way. In fact, this past year alone
there had been three shootings where minors had been wounded. There were even reports of a 14 year old
wielding one of the weapons during the last.
Ellie had a hard time believing
places like this existed in America. She
wondered if her friends believed her when she told them the stories of
brokenness and heartbreak. She and her
husband had encountered much in their 12 year ministry to The Community. Like how, on their second Sunday at church,
they had met a mother and her teenage son.
The boy was silent with arms crossed, staring at the ground. Ellie just assumed he was another rebellious
teen. Later that afternoon he went home
and shot himself in the head. She sang
at the funeral.
There was another time a woman
they’d been ministering to had called her up at 1 A.M, higher than a kite,
threatening to kill her. Ellie had
called the police to do a well-check on the woman the previous morning, when she
hadn’t shown up for church. It turned
out the woman had been using, with a child in the home. The police had removed the child into
protective custody, and the woman was obviously upset. Ellie and her husband acquired the family dog
after that incident.
Ellie and the girl finished their
smoothies. Ellie was thankful that she
had the opportunity to be a blessing to this young lady. She reflected inwardly about the numerous
times she’d wanted to give up the ministry. Admittedly, in her prayer times, Ellie had often
begged God to let them quit. She was
often afraid, and people in The Community weren’t interested in church. Yet she never felt like God had given them the
green light to stop. Lots of people quit
when it came to The Community, or worse, refused to acknowledge its existence.
“Trust.” That word from the
Lord came back to her again and again when she would pray. Ellie had a hard time with that. It was easier to give in to her anxieties
when she saw darkness every day. But
even in her own failings she could not deny that God had always been faithful. The times God had protected her family and
provided for them were permanently stamped in her memory.
And then again, two years ago, the
whisper echoed back into her heart. “Trust.”
She realized, in fact, that
the Lord was still not allowing them to quit. He reminded her that he was her
rock when was afraid, and he wanted to be theirs too. The Lord was asking them to stop their full
time jobs in the church and expand their youth discipleship program in The Community. He had given them a vision to mentor kids,
take them into their home, bring them to healthy churches, and even pilot a
literacy program. It was insane, and
Ellie had no idea where the money would come from. But still…”Trust.”
And now, here she was. Ellie
snapped out of her thoughts and looked at the girl. She drew in a breath. “I know the past is hard sometimes, isn’t
it.” The girl didn’t look at her, but
nodded. “You know,” said Ellie with
conviction, “you can really trust the Lord.
He loves you, hon. He’ll never
ever let you go.”
“And God help us, we won’t
either.” That last part was a thought and a prayer. The girl looked at Ellie and smiled. “Thank you.”
She said softly.
No comments:
Post a Comment