The Visitors
Dr. Mike Murphy
Many did not know how to react as they saw them coming toward the door. They watched as the father and his two young kids got out of a beat up old car, and made their way to the entrance of the small church. You could tell by looking at them, they had done their best the make themselves look presentable. The youngest girl wore a simple, but well worn shirt and pants that seemed to barely fit. The oldest girl, wore a dress that appeared to be a size or two too big. And appeared in style, to be a decade or two too old. The father wore a pair of jeans, and a buttoned down shirt. And although neither had holes, you could quickly tell that the material had worn very thin. As they exited the car, the father made sure their clothes were straightened, and warned both to be on their best behavior. And with a smile, told them to be friendly to all they met.
From the entry of the church, you could all but hear as the silence was speaking. The eyes of several watched as the family approached. And as the family entered the doors, most just smiled, but said nothing. It was not that they did not want to speak, it was that they did not know what to say. Finally, the pastor’s wife came up to greet them, and helped them to find a pew in the sanctuary.
During the services that Sunday, the members observed as this family joined them in singing every song. Watching as the father helped the kids search the hymnal for the song they were about to sing. With each prayer, you could watch as the congregation sneaked a peek. And with each peek, you could see both the father and the kids with their head bowed silently. And as the service ended, and the pastor shook everyone’s hand, you could see the smile on the father’s face as he told him how glad they were to be there.
For three straight Sundays, the congregation watched as this family came to visit. And for three straight Sundays, they watched as this family had the same routine. Always dressed as well as they could, with what little it was obvious they had. Always respectful of why they were there, and glad for the opportunity to be there each Sunday.
As the family began to leave the church that Sunday, the pastor took an extra moment to speak with them. Asking if the family would have time for him to come by for a visit this week. The father, timidly lowered his head, and asked if it would be okay for them to met at the fast food restaurant across the street from the church instead. Telling the pastor that he would love to have a moment to talk with him. Although the pastor found the request a little unusual, he agreed, and said that he and his wife would love to meet them for dinner that following Thursday night.
As the week flew by, the pastor’s wife reminded him of their dinner plans that Thursday night. And as the sun began to set, the pastor and his wife found themselves entering that fast food restaurant. They quickly ordered their meal, and sat down to join the family, who was already gathered at a table there. As they sat to eat, they noticed the kids both had a small meal, but that the father sat at the table without any food in front of him.
As they eat, the small talk began to flow. And soon the pastor asked the father what local subdivision their house was in. Quietly, the father asked the pastor if he would give him a moment, and he sent the kids to play on the gym equipment that the restaurant had built in the corner. As soon as the kids were on their way, the father lowered his head and began to speak.
“Pastor, we do not live in a subdivision, or even a local apartment complex. That old car you see us in each Sunday is where we call home. I know it is not much, and I so wish for the kid’s sake that we had more, but right now, I am very thankful to the Lord for it.” As the pastor heard the words, he found himself speaking before he thought about what he was going to say next. “What happened? How did your family become homeless?” The pastor felt his wife punching his leg, only seconds before he found himself finishing the words. Word he could not now take back.
“Pastor”, the father began to say, “I am sure I could give you greatest of sob stories, but the truth is, I was not always a very good father. My wife mainly took care of the girls after she worked each day. And between daily bouts of drinking, I worked just enough to keep the family going. We had a small house we rented a few miles down the street, and although we stayed behind on the bills, we somehow managed to get by. Then one day, I came home to find the girls all alone. My wife had enough, and abandoned me and the kids. She left behind only a note, telling how she was tired of all of us, and we were nothing but a burden on her life. That night, as I longed more for the bottle than ever, I turned away from the bottle for the first time. And I do not know how, but I found myself praying, not really even knowing God well enough to say a prayer to Him. But that night, He gave me strength, and I have not touched a bottle since.”
“I soon learned pastor, we were far more behind on the bills than I realized we were. Farther enough behind, that within a couple of weeks, we lost the house. And with me having to now take care of the kids by myself, I soon was not able to keep my job, as it often required me to work nights. Within two weeks, we had lost everything pastor. But you know what, in those two weeks the Lord began to show me that I already had everything. For the first time in my life, I began to realize what I had with the two kids, and just how much I really love them, and would do anything for them. So now each day, I try my best to make their life a little better, even though I have so little to offer them.”
As he heard the words, the pastor fought back the tears as he asked his next question. “If you do not mind me asking, where are you all living now?” The father slowly pointed to the parking lot, and answered, “This is now our home! The reason I wanted to met you here, is here is about as close to home as we have these days. The manager, at the restaurant here, is letting me work while the kids are in school. And he is good enough, to help feed my girls many a night. And although I am saving every dime I can, raising kids, even in a car, is expensive. It seems like there is always something they need, something I was just not prepared for. But although I cannot give them all I want to, the Lord is helping me to give them all I can. I try to always catch Goodwill on the days they are having their ninety-nine cent sales, so the girls always have something nice to wear to school each day. The restaurant manager allows them to use the restroom to wash up each morning before they go to school, and he lets them study at a table in the restaurant each night. He has also been good enough to me to let me leave my car parked by the building, so that the kids will always know where it is, and provides as safe as possible a place for all of us to sleep each night.”
“I know you might be wondering also pastor, what brought us to your church? Each Sunday morning we watched from across the street as so many smiling faces came into your church. Faces that always seemed filled with hope. And the more I looked at those faces, the more I wanted that hope for my kids, and for me.”
For over two hours the pastor, his wife, and the father talked that night. And as they finally got ready to leave, they both found themselves saying a prayer for the father and his family. And before she left the table, the pastor’s wife reached into her purse and pulled out all forty-three dollars that she had, forcing each dollar into the hands of the father.
Leaving that night, both the pastor and his wife knew that their story with this family was not about to end, but was near where the Lord was ready for it to begin. And as both laid in bed that night, they both prayed for the right words to speak to their church. Words the Lord was calling them to. Words that would bring not only this family, but the needs of the family, into the family of their church.
In part two of our fictional story, we will look at how our churches today can reach out with all the compassion He is calling us to, and still hold themselves accountable with every dollar He has entrusted us with.
“Blessed is the one who considers the poor! In the day of trouble the Lord delivers him; the Lord protects him and keeps him alive; he is called blessed in the land; you do not give him up to the will of his enemies.” Psalm 41:1-2
About The Author
