Be the Church.
My good friend George (name changed to protect the innocent), called me this week. He suggested that if it was OK, he would come over and pick up the car I’ve been trying to sell. He would wash it, detail it, and then take it to a community lot and with some luck, would sell it over the weekend.
OK? Are you kidding? The thought of listing the car for sale and then having to field calls and questions, the answers all a mystery to me — well, had been daunting. I dreaded it, even though I knew I needed to do it. I had been procrastinating for a few weeks now, and so when I got that call, I could feel my shoulders drop three notches on the ol’ stress-o-meter.
George did exactly as he had promised, and sure enough, Saturday morning, I received my first terrifying call from a prospective buyer. I listened sheepishly, as the man left a slightly frustrated voicemail indicating he was very interested, and “He would try the other number.” You see, in addition to preparing the car and planting the car in the lot, George also offered to leave his number as an alternative number, “Just in case.”
About 1/2 hour later, I got a call from George. He had two prospective buyers offering just about the list price, all cash. He offered to pick me up and take me to the lot. When we arrived, I whispered to George, “I’m not going to say anything. Pretend I can’t speak English!” For some reason, these things just intimidate the heck out of me. George answered every question, having explained that my husband had recently passed away and he was helping me. One prospect said, “Wow, your husband really kept this car immaculate!” I smiled and thanked him, knowing full well that George had brought the car to its immaculate shiny self, just hours prior.
“We” sold the car, but not before George insisted that we have the money verified at the bank. He drove me and the buyer to the nearest bank, where the teller put the money into a machine which counted it and verified that it was the real thing, all in less than two minutes.
When I tried to thank George, he said, “I promised Walt I would help you, no thanks necessary!”
The story doesn’t end there. George’s wife, and my friend, Fern (again, name changed to protect the innocent) invited me over to dinner to celebrate our victory. I asked if I couldn’t take them both out to dinner as a way of saying thanks, but they wouldn’t have it. Fern didn’t mind at all that her husband had given up several hours of his weekend to help me and the day was topped off with a wonderful dinner and good conversation!
Now the funny part about this story. As I sat in church this morning, I thought about my two friends. George and Fern have not been going to church regularly and perhaps are a little unsure of their faith these days. But their actions were exactly what God asks of us. Be kind to one another. Love one another. They could pass for two churchgoers any day of the week. God loves you guys, and so do I.
Thank you. God’s Peace!