My phone rang last night at 10:30. My husband, thinking it was his phone because the ring tone was the same (despite my rapid-fire string of rebutals), picked it up.
Several months, if not a year, ago a young man, whom we'll call Bob, wandered into our church buidling late one Monday night during a women's prayer meeting. Broken and searching for Truth, he poured his heart out to a half-dozen women who were all at least 20 years his senior. They prayed with him and encouraged him to come to church. He came on the same night as the last evangelist to ever be invited to speak at our church (it was bad), and had a terrible experience via an over-zealous minister who didn't ask if you wanted prayer before he grabbed you by the head. We never saw Bob again.
Last night at 10:30 it was Bob. Still lost and still broken, he appologized to Timothy and asked if he could possibly borrow some gas money. He was in a really tough place. I gave Timothy a $20 and he left to meet Bob at the gas station across town. I headed into the bedroom to pray, and on the way woke up my phone to set it back on vibrate when I noticed it had never been taken off vibrate. When a phone on vibrate rings so you hear it from the other room, you know the Lord is moving.
Timothy came back safe and sound almost an hour later. He'd explained to Bob that what happened at the church meeting so long ago was unfortunate and not condoned by our leadership. He encouraged him to come back, and prayed with him before he left. Bob - among other things - told Timothy that he'd called everyone he knows and no one would help him. Bob even said he didn't expect my phone to ring - those were his words.
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