Throughout the years, members of St. Stephen have shared how God has worked within their lives. We intend to share these testimonies with the wider community. Previous stories, along with other writings from members of St. Stephen, are at the bottom of the page.
Good morning!
My name is Lisa Mellott.
This morning I would like to share a story about a recent experience I had that began when I invited an unsaved family to church.
Mychal F. Judge, the fire department chaplain who died in the world trade center attack on September 11th,carried a prayer in his pocket. It is affectionately known to firemen as Mychal’s prayer:
Lord, take me where you want me to go;
Let me meet who you want me to meet;
Tell me what you want me to say,
and Keep me out of your way.
The great commission in Matthew 28 tells us that Jesus, speaking to his disciples said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the father and of the son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you.”
Last Sunday Pastor John asked the question, “Why as Christians are we so reluctant to share our faith with others?” The first answer that comes to my mind is fear. There have been times I have been reluctant to invite people to church. In the past, I have had a hard time sharing my faith with others. What if someone were to ask a question that I didn’t have an answer to? What if the person I was sharing with rejected what I had to say and, ultimately, rejected me?
We’ve know the Miller* family for almost five years. For three years they lived across the street from us. They were a young family of five that eventually became six and life for them was far from easy. Their duplex was small, certainly not very accommodating. She worked days and he worked nights. Money was tight. They didn’t have many friends. Their lives were extremely stressful. There was always a lot of yelling, screaming and profanity coming from that house. Most of their energy was spent being unhappy. My husband Joe and I tried to be good neighbors to them. We often helped them with their children and I spent a lot of time at night on the phone with her trying to help her make sense of things. They knew that we were Christians, they knew that we attended St. Stephen and one summer I had even been able to haul one of their sons back and forth to vacation bible school. Supervised play visits at her house were okay with me as long as I did the supervising, needless to say their children spent a lot of time at my house. Occasionally, we casually invited them to church, but for some reason or another, they just weren’t interested.
After three years, they moved about two blocks away. The phone calls stopped coming as frequently and because they no longer lived across the street, our children no longer played together. Occasionally we would run into them around town or they would see us outside and pull in the drive to tell us their latest troubles.
We hadn’t seen much of them over this past summer and it wasn’t until the fall of 2001 when our five-year-old sons started kindergarten together that I began to hear from them again. The husband was home during the day and so I talked to him at least two times a week while we waited for our boys to get out of school. One day he explained their three-year-old daughter, who I will call Anne, had developed an infected cyst near her eye and would need surgery. The situation was especially frustrating to them because the doctors had no explanation as to what caused it and they weren’t sure if removing the cyst would end the infection. I called the wife later that night and let her know that I would be praying for all of them and especially for Anne. Two weeks after the surgery the infection returned.
Monday night at bible study, we lifted up the little girl in prayer. She was scheduled for a second operation at the end of the week. By this time, I had been in contact with the family regularly. The night before her second surgery I called to let them know again that we would be praying, but I hadn’t even gotten the words out of my mouth when the mother said, “Lisa you are not going to believe this, her eye looks perfectly normal. Her eye is open and the swelling is completely gone! It’s like night and day! I don’t think they are going to have to do the surgery.” Thinking that surely if they had never believed in god before they most certainly could not deny him now, I blurted out, “we prayed for healing for her Monday night at bible study.” While my excitement mounted, hers faded. “Oh yeah?” She asked politely, but obviously thinking I was just a little bit nutty. “Well anyway,” she continued, “I’ll have to see what the doctor says when I take her in tomorrow morning.” Didn’t she hear what I just said? God healed her little girl! It seemed to mean nothing to her and everything to me.
I went to bible study the following Monday night and let our group know about
Anne. It was suggested that I invite them to church. I agreed. After all, it
was the holidays. This would be a perfect time for them to come. With a lump
in my throat and my heart racing I called and made the invitation. To my surprise,
she said she and the kids would be there, but that she was pretty sure that
her husband would not. I hung up the phone. “That was easy!” I thought.
The week before Christmas, our Monday night group prayed for Mr. Miller asking the lord to soften his heart and bring him with his family to church. All week long, I looked forward to Sunday. I was having a great Christmas! Sunday morning finally came and I was excited. “Joe,” I said, “make sure you save enough seats for the Millers this morning.” I spoke too soon. At 9:00am, the phone rang. Boom! They weren’t coming. Just like that! I hung up the phone feeling numb inside.
Although this time, things didn’t turn out the way I had planned, in retrospect, I’m quite sure they turned out the way god planned.
I spent the next several days thinking about what had happened with the Millers. Had I come across as some self-righteous Christian? Did I scare them away when I let them know I would be praying for them? Didn’t they want the hope that Jesus offers to lives that are hopeless? And while I was at it, I couldn’t help but be just a little bit upset with god. After all, it hadn’t been a cakewalk getting up the nerve to share such an intimate part of my life with the Millers. What was the point if God wasn’t going to bring them to church?
Gently the Lord spoke, “ Lisa, ye of little faith. First, I need to remind you that my will is a perfect one. Are you forgetting that a child was healed through all of this bringing glory to my name? And have a little mercy on the Millers. Did it ever occur to you that maybe they were afraid? Afraid to walk through those church doors? That maybe they were fearful of being judged? My work is not finished here and neither is yours. This family will be watching you and your husband. They will be waiting to see how you will treat them because of their decision not to come to church. And because they will not come to hear my word, you need to take my word to them. Are you up to the task?”
As Jesus continued to speak to my heart, I began to take my eyes off of myself. I thought about his immeasurable love for all people. I thought about the tremendous sacrifice he made on the cross and what lengths he goes to even today to get the attention of those who don’t know him. In a very sobering moment, I found myself grieving for him, and suddenly my hang-ups about witnessing seemed ridiculously small and I was ashamed.
And then the heavenly father wrapped his arms around me. His love for me flooded my soul like a beacon of light showing me the way. I was blind, but now I could see! Suddenly I understood what it meant that god grieves for the hearts of his people. I too was grieving for them. But at the same time, I was filled with an incredible hope for them. The hope that only can be found in Jesus. It was then that I understood the incredible honor Christ placed on us by giving us the important task of sharing our faith with others.
I rejoiced in what he had revealed to me that day. I felt blessed, as I knew that I had just grown in my walk with God. And it is with his blessing that I am empowered to move beyond myself and tell the good news of Jesus.
I would like to close with a prayer from the daily texts.
Dear Heavenly Father:
Jesus said, “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” We thank you lord, that we have fallen short of your glory and do not have to pretend that we have it made. This is the freedom that comes from depending on you and your work in us. Thank you Jesus for giving us a purpose, to go into the world with a message of hope. Forgive us for hiding the plan of your salvation. Give us the boldness we need to be your witness to all people. Let us share the joy of being a forgiven sinner with someone today.
Amen
* "Miller" is not the family's name. The value of Lisa's witness doesn't change with the use of the pseudonym.