I had nearly reached the end of my part when the youngster and my daughter came running, "Daddy, Mommy wants you now!" I was startled, concerned, but the young man said, "She's in some girl's apartment and asked for you to come."
Knowing my wife, I had a vague idea of what had happened ..... she made a connection with someone. Boy, howdy. I got there and the front door was open, and my wife invited me on in. I closed the door behind me while my daughter and the teen waited next to it outside. "Holler if you need me," I instructed them. I sat down in the living room next to my wife and across from a very young woman with a Takamine acoustic propped up against her couch. And empty beer cans all over the place. All over. She was alone. She was the emptier of said beer cans.
I'll call her "V", since that's her first initial. V was distraught. She told my wife a few deeply personal, tragic details about herself. All my wife had done was happen upon her open door with a flyer. She told my wife she'd been asking God to send someone to her right then. That moment.
Lots of other details were shared. She was quite a sight, and more than a little tipsy. She guzzled down a long gulp from a fifth of Bacardi rum straight while I talked to her about her soul and about Jesus. She told me she wanted to hit me. I told her she wasn't really that mad at me. Before it was over, she made a pledge to my wife to not harm herself, and we got her cell number and left.
Later in the day, my wife called her back to tell her we'd come get her for church the next morning, and she agreed. When my wife arrived the next morning to get her, she wouldn't answer the door. We prayed and prayed, confident that her initial prayer to God for someone to come to her was not going to fail because we made it OUR prayer, too. So, over the course of the following week, my wife texted and talked with V. On Sunday morning, my wife dutifully showed up at her apartment, and she was ready.
After a very appropriate sermon, the pastor invited people to become Christians. V grabbed my wife's hands with a death grip and she put her faith in Jesus this past Sunday morning. She was crying, my wife was crying. My sister in law was crying. It was beautiful. Seven people, including V, raised their hands when asked in a very non-pushy way by the pastor if anyone had turned from sin and trusted Christ for their salvation.
After the service, V joined my wife, daughter and me for lunch. She is a very hurt, jaded young woman but who has had some very interesting life experiences and I thought to myself, "Oh, boy. This girl could really be a soul-winner one day." We'll see.
She had volunteered to help with our big Easter Egg Hunt this Saturday (we've got 16,000 plastic eggs that we've been stuffing for 6 weeks; about 50 bicycles -- I picked up 7 more today -- 3 Wiis, all kinds of stuff people have bought and/or donated). Oh, yeah, I'm a character in a puppet show. I'm a black kid.
V. would not respond to my wife's phone calls this week. We've prayed that God would keep her, help her. I haven't been worried with her non-responsiveness because God knows how to care for what is His.
Today, V called my wife. She was at Books-A-Million shopping for a bible and didn't know which version to get. My wife put me on the phone with her, and I gave her a quick suggestion. She told my wife she'd been sober for a week now, the first week she could remember in a long time being sober.
V. is an infant in so many ways. I'm thankful to our faithful Father in Heaven that He is mighty, and He is powerful, and that He saves.
I hope you'll pray for V if you think of it. My prayer is that you'll get to know her one day --- her full name, even --- as she grows into a God-loving, people-loving, winsome young woman known by many as a treasure in the Body of Christ. She even golfs, which is a fruit of the spirit somewhere, I think, if you can manage it without losing your temper. I know I cannot.

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