Good Morning

It was a weather-perfect morning in Chicago as I pulled the van out of the ministry yard to begin the day’s activities. Instead of backing down the alley to turn around and park on the opposite side of the street like I always do, for some reason I just parked it on the other side of the alley next to a vacant lot we used to play games (thinking perhaps to buffer the kids from running into the street if their Frisbee toss or kickball went out there—but really probably stemming more from laziness in not wanting to back it around). All week we had parked it on our side of the alley, but today, Friday, I just parked it there.

The team that had come for the week split up, ten or so going to another work site and the remaining twenty or so cleaning up the alley and doing some odds-and-ends projects for us. When I wasn’t overseeing projects or assisting in finding tools or parts for them, I was preparing my sermon for Sunday morning. I had been preaching through the Gospel of Matthew and my text for this week was Matthew 18.1-14. This is the text where Jesus sets a child in the middle of his disciples and says true greatness in the Kingdom—in fact, the ticket to entering the Kingdom—is to become humble like this child. Jesus continues by affirming the importance of children to God; in serving a child one truly serves Jesus but in causing one to stumble he ought to wish he was never born. Jesus concludes by saying that it is not the Father’s will that even one of these little ones should die.

Here I have to stop my study and return to the events at hand. Not only is it lunchtime, but some of the students need my opinion on how the basketball hoop they just fixed up looks, my wife needs help taking care of our seven-month-old baby, and I need yet another cup of steaming hot delicious coffee. So I put away the computer for a minute and begin to take care of the checklist. I help my wife first—of course!—and grab a sandwich as I go out to take a look at the basketball hoop and fill my coffee cup with the fresh brew. The sandwich wasn’t enough so I walk down to White Castle to grab a few Jalapeno sliders, a large coke and a vanilla shake.

After spending what seems like an eternity at White Castle (why it takes so long to cook burgers so much smaller than everywhere else is beyond me) awaiting my order I head back and share my feast with my wife (she had since put the baby down to nap upstairs in the house with a wall facing the vacant lot by which the van is parked). Then we all hear some firecrackers going off—no, wait, gunshots! “Get down!” One of the team’s leaders hollers! “Everyone inside now!” Echoes the voice of Keith over the gunshots (there must have been a dozen or more!). Everyone scrambles to get inside the two-flat but my mind races back to my daughter asleep near the wall standing as a backdrop from the direction of the gunshots. I run up to her room as fast as my shaking legs can carry me; I swing open the door and find her startled by my intrusion into wakeful babbling. She’s fine. My calmness seems to catch up to me at last and we head back downstairs to find her mother and make sure everyone else is okay. No one is hurt. The van, which had been earlier parked in its precarious spot, gave evidence to the gunfight as the already cracked windshield now displayed a new small circular spider crack from where a bullet had smacked it.

We praised God for his providence in protecting his little ones who had been standing outside the fence and raced inside to take cover in the ministry house—and were protected by the windshield of our van. We praised God for the protection of my little girl—who is first His little girl of whom he is not willing that she should perish! We praise Him for the reminder of these things that strengthens our faith. And I’m reminded of what I told the team’s youth pastor prior to coming when he asked me about safety here: “It is not a safe neighborhood; it is not safe here but it is always safest to be in the will of God.” And that we still firmly believe—perhaps now stronger than ever! To God be all glory, honor and praise forever and ever!

Daniel

We have many blessings! Thanks for your part in interceding before the throne in our behalf! The Holy Spirit continues to move greatly!

Pastor Keith

Urban Youth Outreach (HFM)

(Mailing Address)
Box 21144
Chicago, Illinois 60621
Office/Fax 773-488-4717
Web Site: urban7youthoutreach.org

(Physical Address)
6647 S Union
Chicago, IL 60621

Colossians 1.25-29
(...I have become a servant by God...to present the mystery...the hope of glory...to this end I labor...!)