Really?

So, there's this guy named Frank who lives in the apartment below us. Frank is pretty different from me-- he's a little rough around the edges, so to speak. In fact, I can't really think of any ways we're similar except that we're both humans and we live in the same apartment complex.

Here's how my story with Frank began, about 4 months ago:
When Sam and I got married and moved into this apartment, we asked God to allow us to make relationships with the people who live around us and for him to "put people in our path" who we could be a Light to. He blessed us with a cool relationship with a guy named Allen, but that's a story for another post. Other than that, we didn't really strike up any meaningful relationships with anyone. However, there were these neighbors who, quite honestly, annoyed us. They were always sitting on the stairs that lead up to our door. Almost every day they were out there swearing, drinking beer, making a mess, etc. Not to mention they were right in our way to get to our apartment. Wait... did I say they were right in our way? As in they were "in our path"? Isn't it funny how God answers prayers?

These folks weren't who we had envisioned ministering to. They weren't like the white, middle class, college-aged students we've spent hours ministering to on campus, nor were they Chinese or Indian internationals we have plenty of experience with. I didn't really know where to start, once I realized I needed to be a Light to them. I simply tried to be friendly and say hi every time they had to move to let me up the stairs.

Then, about a month ago, God presented the opportunity. Sam and I were returning from youth group at Grand Avenue Baptist Church where I had just taught about not regarding anyone from a worldly point of view (2 Cor. 5:16), when Frank (who was on our steps drinking with two of his bros) asked, "Where y'all comin' from, church?" I told him that we were just at a church down the street where I'm a part-time youth pastor. From that starting point, God allowed me to sit on the steps with them and gave me words to boldly proclaim the Gospel to Frank and his friends. It was sweet. By the end of the conversation, Frank promised me he would come to church with me and I hadn't even ask him to. "Not this week, or next week... 'cause I got stuff to do. But the week after that, I'll come," he told me.

Cool. I was really excited about that, plus the fact I was able to build a relationship with one of my neighbors. Still, though, I had my doubts about whether he'd come because I wasn't even sure if he was sober when we had our conversation. I said I'd hold him accountable to his decision to come and he told me, "You ain't gotta hold me accountable, I'll come." Over the next three weeks, my faith in that decision (and in God's ability/willingness to change his life) weakened.

I only reminded Frank once that he said he'd come to church with me on the 20th (yesterday), and he said he'd come. "You'll come get me at 10:00, right?" he asked. I told him I'd be there and we'd go together.

So, here's where it gets weird. I showed up yesterday at 10:15 (a little late, but we had a half hour of leeway) at Frank's door, admittedly with little faith that he would agree to come. When I knocked, some old guy who I'd seen around a little answered. When I asked if Frank was there he replied, "I don't know no Frank." I walked away bewildered. I wondered if he moved out of town, or if I had just imagined Frank, or if he gave me the wrong name, or if we were entertaining angels. Certainly isn't how I'd pictured angels...

Sam and I were confused about that until later that evening when Frank caught up with us as we were walking up to our door. He asked me what church I go to. I told him Grand Avenue Baptist and he said, "Aw man... I thought you went to Heartland Baptist! I woke up at 10:10 this morning and realized I was late. So, threw on a shirt and went to that church. Man, I must have spent two hours there lookin' for you. I was like, 'Anybody know Tim? He teaches Sunday school or somethin' here.' But nobody knew you. They took me to all the classrooms but I couldn't find you. And the guy who answered the door this morning... he thought you was the cops, so he said he didn't know me."

I couldn't believe it. I was touched, bummed, excited, and cracking up all at the same time! I was excited because Heartland is known for reaching out to people who are struggling to get by and I thought it might be a good fit for Frank. When I asked him how he liked it he said, "Sucked. Hated it. People always tryin' to give me coffee and stuff. I was like, 'Man, I don't drink no coffee!' Now if they give me a beer, I'll take that, you know what I'm sayin'?"

I laughed and explained that we go to Grand, so no one would know me at Heartland. He said he would go with us next week because he said he'd go with us and he would keep his word. Please pray for Frank, because now I'm convinced he will go. Pray that his eyes and heart would be open to Truth and that he would be convicted of sin and broken before Christ. Pray for me that I would be filled with the Spirit when I talk to Frank and that I would speak the words he needs to hear. Pray for the church that they would love him and that Frank would respond to that love.

How often do I sell God short? How often do I see the worst side of things when, in fact, He is moving the whole time? In what other areas of my life am I not submitting to Him because things aren't going according to my plan? I am sorry, Lord. Please forgive me, my King.

 Finally, what would a church look like that offered beer instead of coffee?