I thought I detected something in Danny's eyes Sunday morning that meant he'd been on an adventure in the night. Sure enough, he'd gotten a fire call about half hour after midnight, right up in town on the west side of the road where a deserted Catholic church sits. I had noticed at least one tent and other belongings of homeless people sitting recently next to the church. Apparently someone had been inside trying to have a fire perhaps to cook, for a pew had burned near where some sort of heating apparatus was parked, and the fire had reached the wall by the time Danny and other fire crew arrived.
He said that homeless people there had tried to put out the fire, someone said, but when the sheriff arrived, they all disappeared. Danny helped break through the boarded up windows and door to let out smoke and heat and put out the fire.
Mathel Ambrose said this church had been moved up to this spot years ago, from the river bottom area, she said.
It used to be a beautiful church.
Our Lakota Community Chapel also has a history of being moved from some distance away to the foundation upon which it now sits.
I asked Jonathan to drive down the road to take a look at the church after service and noon meal were over. It had been an extra busy day for us because we'd been making acquaintance with a recent resident at White River Care Center who wanted to come to church. We went up Saturday night to make final contact with both the man and on phone with his daughter to get her permission, as his guardian, to take him Sunday morning.
Jonathan and I picked him up Sunday morning and brought him to church. Jonathan was in the middle of leading service when a couple ladies arrived late, one of them announcing that two tipsy men were in the basement! Since pastor struggles to get around even with his cane and Jonathan was behind the pulpit, Danny and I dashed downstairs where we came upon two men helping themselves to cups of coffee that had been prepared ahead of time for lunch.
I find that a big smile, coupled with a no-nonsense invitation to come upstairs for the service, works wonderfully, and it did. The one younger man, who often comes to service but sometimes only to the meal afterward, bolted up the stairs as if his life depended on it, and the other, more tipsy and wobbly, followed suit, with Danny ahead of him and me behind him to make sure he did not change his mind and turn around back to the coffee--or fall down the stairs, though I have no idea how I would have caught him.
We never know who will show up for church, but often there is someone new--or tipsy, or drugged.
They all need the gospel and Jesus.
And usually, they are grateful for a plate of food.
Sunday one of our contributions was fried rice with "cocktail" sausages, for which more than one person wanted the recipe--with quite a few rice grains ending up on the floor around the tipsy man's spot at the table.
I grabbed the broom and dustpan afterward.
Tipsy or not, he needs the Lord and love, and when he asked if he could take a plate home, we served up an extra plate of food wrapped with foil.
In the evening we attended our usual service at Hope Family Chapel in Mission,
and so Danny ended up in three churches Sunday--
including the Catholic church with fire in the pew,
Lakota Chapel with tipsy men in the pews,
and Hope Family Chapel with chairs full of needs.
Lord, we need You in our churches, in the sanctuaries, in the fellowship halls.
Walk among us, draw people to Your self.
And set us on fire with love for you!
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