Yesterday, I looked out my living room windows and saw Reid, Evan, Cole, and Dakota – middle school aged boys who live in our neighborhood -- shoveling the sleet, frozen rain and snow off our North sidewalk at the front of our house, and the serpentine sidewalk connecting the main sidewalk to the driveway at the East end of the house.
I maneuvered my motorized wheel chair to the front door, struggled to get it unlocked and opened, and offered a gratuity to each of the lads for their helpfulness. They politely declined. They were helping simply because they wanted to do something for a neighboring senior couple, both of whom are infirmed – me by ALS, and Margaret by a less than perfect knee replacement.
I shot off an email to the father of one of the boys. It was intercepted and responded to by Reid. Here is his response just as I received it – except for the crossed-out phone number.
"it's me reid it was not a problem.Evan,Cole,Dakota and me thaught it was fun i have only a short time to tiype because i'm going to church.Let me know if you need any thing else.My number is xxxxxxx I'd like to visit you anytime gust call if you want. Ok i half to go i'm shure i'll see you soon. love.reid"
The grammar may not have been perfect, but it was an expression of love that brought tears of joyful gratitude to my eyes. They were intervening to help fellow human beings – expecting nothing in return.
A few days before, the pastor of a church other than the one we attend, stopped by and ran some errands for us. He lives in our neighborhood, and we had met briefly a few years ago during a water aerobics session at a nearby Salvation Army swimming pool.
These happenings – and others – taught me something about the Body of Christ. It isn’t always confined within the walls of a church building – it is where you find it. It can be within your own neighborhood – even in your front yard after a day of freezing rain.