Mary

Last night Susan and I hung around Freedom Fellowship, a satellite church that is located in a low-income neighborhood in Abilene. They were having a VBS for the neighborhood and we wanted to go help with the meal for the adults, while the kids were being ministered to outside and in the sanctuary.

There were quite a few volunteers there that night, and so Susan and I were wondering what our role would be that evening. It was after the event concluded when the most meaningful part of the night occured for us. Joe Almanza, Highland's community minister, asked us to follow a couple young girls who were taking containers of food to their grandmother, whom I'll call Mary. Joe said, "I want you to go pray for 'Mary'." We had no reason why he wanted us to do this, but off we went.

About a block away from Freedom's building is an old frame house with a dirt filled lawn and an old van parked on the lawn. A makeshift wooden sidewalk led up to the porch. Seated in a wheelchair, with a look of anticipation about our visit, was Mary. My eyes were immediately drawn to her feet -- her right one was but a stump, her left foot bandaged up. I could tell that it had been amputated, too.

As Susan and I walked up the stairs, following the grandchildren who went inside with the food, we greeted Mary. She immediately reached out her hands, grabbed onto mine and wouldn't let go for several minutes. We sat on the porch with Mary for about 30 minutes, letting her tell her story. "I'm suicidal and this scares me because I don't want to do this."

As we let Mary talk about her grief of losing another foot and feeling worthless, our hearts went out to her. All we wanted to do was love Mary and give her hope -- that she does have something to live for, in spite of these terrible losses. And so we listened and assured her that these feelings of despair and depression are normal reactions to loss. Mary said, "I thought I was the only one who felt this way."

We spent time doing what we thought was the best thing for someone who admits they're tempted to take their life: 1.)Find out if they have any weapons or pills nearby (she didn't); 2.) Ask about support resources (we gave her the name of one of Susan's former students who now works at a mental health clinic in Abilene); 3.) Encourage them with HOPE (as counselor and writer Norm Wright says -- "depressed people need to see that there is hope for their lives.")

After we prayed for Mary and gave her a hug, we walked back down the wooden sidewalk, got in our car and in 6 minutes drove into our garage -- in a world that seemed like a continent away. Our brief visit with Mary was like taking a trip to a third world country. And I wondered about all the lonely, suffering people in Abilene who just want someone to LISTEN to them and pray for them. Some of whom live just a few minutes from our home.

And I wonder how many more of such people I would encounter in this city if I would step out of my comfort zone more often. Think of the huge step that Jesus took in leaving the perfection of heaven and coming to live in this sin-tainted world. Talk about going out of one's comfort zone! And then He went to the struggling, the sick, the demon-possesed -- to heal them, proclaim the Good News and show them the Father.

If I'm going to follow Him each day, how can I not go to more of the "Marys" of this world. And let the Spirit of Christ continue His ministry of love, healing and grace in my little corner of the world. It is uncomfortable -- but I believe it's where Jesus would be. Because He loves the world that much.

Jim