I've been learning a lot about service this past week. Bro. Nuttall called me last Monday evening saying he had picked up someone who was beaten up and in need. This person needed a place to stay for an indefinite period of time. As I thought about who I might be able to call to possibly help this person, (I'll call him "Chef", and you'll find out why soon enough) I thought of the verses found in the Book of James. He describes that we need to be doers of the Word and not hearers only. He also explains that if a man was hungry and naked, and all we did was tell him be warmed and be filled, then basically, we did nothing for him. As these verses came to mind, I also thought of the times I was in the Philippines and I did not reach out to those who were in need, especially those children who came begging at the car's windows. This weighed down my heart. Was I truly a "doer of the Word?" No, I thought. I was being a hypocrite. I repented quickly and told Bro. Nuttall to bring him over. I had an opportunity to house him, as my family was in the Philippines on an extended vacation.
When Chef arrived I immediately smelled alcohol. He looked forlorn and forsaken. I had not a clue as to how I might help him, but I relied on the Holy Spirit to guide me. I invited him to sit down at the dinner table to eat. His mind seemed full of uncertainty and sorrow. He didn't seem to have the appetite to pick up the fork. It was clear that the alcohol in his system had been a key factor in determining his present miserable condition. I wanted to find out his story, but I thought to myself, "Surely he is not in the right state of mind." Surprisingly, though, he was able to tell his tale with a good degree of clarity.
As he talked I came to find out a few pieces to his puzzle. He had just recently split up with a girl that he loved dearly. A girl that consumed his thoughts, his time, his money, and his heart. So involved were they in each other, that he forsook his friends and his family, who warned him that he was going down the wrong path. He moved in with her, and they were happy for a time. He was a chef at several restaurants, and he lost all those jobs. The third restaurant he worked at convinced him to quit the the other two. When he did, that very same restaurant let him go a short time later. He found another job on a nearby airbase, but he eventually lost that job, too. As his relationship with the love of his life became rocky, his attendance at work became poor. The landlord evicted him from his apartment with is girlfriend, and he ended up at his dad's house. He could not bear to be without his love. It was there, on that fateful Monday evening that the stress of his situation broke him down and he turned to alcohol for comfort. But alcohol can never bring the comfort and peace which the downtrodden seek.
As he was drinking, Chef's father began to berate him for the poor choices he made, especially blaming his girfriend for his problems. The anger began to grow between the two, and it resulted in a physical altercation. His much bigger brother got involved and gave Chef a beating. They threw him out of the house, bruised and bleeding. He walked the streets dazed and drunk, praying for all his problems to go away. It was then that Bro. Nuttall came driving by. Prompted by the Spirit, he picked him up, took him back to his father's house, and helped him to collect his belongings. His small suitcase, a pillow, and a comforter were in my living room as his story unfolded.
It has been one week, and as I said, I have been learning alot about service, as well as patience, kindess, and understanding. Chef and I have been busy driving the island, looking for work. I've learned to be patient, especially while waiting for him to get his court and traffic clearances. He told me how the people at the traffic court said that he was the king because he was the only one who had two pages-worth of traffic violations. We had a good laugh about that. Throughout the week I've come to learn how even the choices that we made many years ago, can either help or haunt us to this day. Chef had many interesting stories to tell about manyof the choices he made in the past. He has been fortunate enough to have a brother who is willing to let him sleep over each night. I pick him up in the mornings, and we go out looking for work. In the evenings I'll fix a simple dinner, and we eat and talk. His stories of his past experiences seems expansive. I advise him as necessary, and as prompted to by the Spirit. He even joined me at Church on Sunday. I'm grateful for the experience to be able to help out a brother in need. I'm also grateful for the blessings I have received, especially for the guidance found in the scriptures, particularly in the Book of James.
Well, this is all for now. I'll keep you updated as time permits.
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