Stories from all over our city & beyond

We just moved into this neighborhood about two months ago after living in DFW a dozen years and attending NWB for a few years. LDS missionaries came to our house a few days ago. We invited them back to our house today and talked about Jesus and scripture. We’ll be meeting with them again in a few weeks.

On my flight home from my recent mission trip, I was seated next to a pilot who was flying standby. He was really friendly and chatted with me the whole flight. He is originally from Pakistan and is Muslim. He asked me, “what is the difference between a church Christian and a Bible Christian?” which led to a conversation where I was able to share my faith. I shared about the blood and sacrifice of Jesus, and how his sacrifice is sufficient to take away sins. None of the sacrifices of the previous prophets could do that. I’m praying that our conversation will keep coming back to him and stir up curiosity in him to discover more about Jesus.

We’re visiting friends in Denver, PA. So after dinner, Glenn and I went on a late evening walk. We were just completing the walk, when a gal that lived down the street pulled into her driveway driving a convertible red Miata. Before she pulled all the way into the garage, I yelled from across the street “oh, boy, I sure would love to ride in a convertible” to which she replied “want to go?” I didn’t have to think twice. Immediately I handed my phone to Glenn to take a photo of me grinning from ear to
ear.

In the quick 20 minute ride through the Amish country side, I learned that [she] is a special ed teacher in high school. Her husband is a retired high school psychologist. She was impressed that Glenn and I were on a 4 week road trip visiting missionaries that are retired. I then learned that her husband two years ago was hit from behind as he was riding his bicycle. He is an avid rider. He broke his neck, scraped up his face and arms. [She] doesn’t understand how her husband was still alive. I told [her] about Glenn’s personal bicycle trip in 1976 to Colombia South America and then Neil’s trip in 2019. I quickly told Lynn about the Listening Road on YouTube.

I expressed to Lynn that there’s a reason why her husband was not killed nor had any life threatening conditions.
I told Lynn that we were traveling, but she could always reach out to Jonathan who we were staying with.

My wife, Stacy and I met with a single mother while on our Mission trip to Cuba […] along with her son and daughter. [She] is struggling to make it to church because her son has an intestinal problem that he has had since he was born and has to wear a colostomy bag since day one. Some days, they do not have new bags to use so they attach rags around him and they can’t leave the house for fear of infection. He can’t go to school most days nor can they attend church due to this problem. [Her son] is 14 years old but was the same size as most of the 7 and 8 year olds. We were able to sit in with her and visit with the them about how God is moving in their town with Julio Ceasar’s church and the blessings that the Lord has given her with her children. Despite all of the issues that they encounter daily, she was so thankful for having the Lord in her life and what He does for them. We also talked about the vacation bible school that we were doing over the next two days. We prayed for them and invited them to attend and they all showed up! After the service that evening, we met collectively with Julio to discuss this family’s situation and talk about how we would try to help get the colostomy bags needed to help them. It was such a joy to see him running around and playing with all the other kids! It was also a blessing to get to see the hope and joy on [her] face and in her smile because of her faith in God!

London Mission Trip – We went to Kahaila for coffee and to hear [his] story. After an amazing BBQ lunch (in the UK!), we headed out seeking more opportunities for conversations to have about Jesus. This time, we had the extra resource with us to be able to invite people back to Kahaila the next night for dinner. I was relieved to have something to offer, further connection, but I still felt way more nervous this day. I was looking around the busy shopping area trying to decide who we would talk to. I caught myself questioning what I was doing, how was I making this judgement, was I judging people, and this began to bother me, when, [a woman] approached us.

[She] is a 31-year-old homeless woman. She sells magazines, which are more like small newspapers, to make enough money to stay in a hostel each night. Kahaila is off of Brick Lane, so is [her] favorite hostel. I knew she was preoccupied, with good reason to sell her papers, she approached saying “I promise I am not a beggar or a panhandler, I am trying to earn a wage.” I was so thankful that she approached us, it probably startled her how excited I was that God put her right before us!

I started to tell her why we there and how we believed God had sent her to us. She was in total agreement and was very sweet and gracious to listen to our spill, but I realized again, she had money that she HAD to earn, TODAY. We asked her how much her daily goal was, and she said 6 pounds. We didn’t have cash, but ATMs were right behind us. I immediately knew we should giver her 20. I continued talking to her, telling her how much God sees her and loves her. She said she grew up in foster care in Kent, and was now homeless, trying to eek out a living to get a roof over her head each night.

I invited her to Kahaila’s Wednesday night service and told her we didn’t want to take any of her papers, but that I would like her to bring me one the next night at Kahaila so we could connect her. She gave [my husband] her number. I asked if I could pray for her, [he] and I both put our hands on her shoulders, when we finished praying, I asked if I could hug her and she said yes, yes….after I hugged her, she wanted a hug from [him] as well. She assured us that she would try to come the following night.

As we made our way to Brixton, London on the London mission trip, we were warned that Brixton was a hard place. A team the week before had become very discouraged at many dead ends they had found there for conversations about Jesus.

I felt hopeful though, nervous of course, but hopeful. When we walked up the tube steps, some of our team were immediately met by a man who had asked where we were from. “Texas! Dallas! You came all the way from here to Brixton?” He marveled, we felt encouraged and welcomed. I felt like Brixton was Maurice and I’s kind of place. Rich in African-Uk culture, it reminded me of areas in Dallas that have rich diversity that we appreciate.

We landed at a Jamaican restaurant for lunch, and we met our server. She was a lovely and very busy woman. The restaurant had a dining area and bar area across the corridor, and its kitchens and store front on the other side. The store front held a bakery and food line for customers to take their food to go.

As we walked into the dining room, two men were inside eating, the dad was probably in his late 60’s and the son in his late 40’s. [One of the men] encouraged us, before we ordered to go around to the front of the restaurant to check out the line up before we ordered so we knew what things were. We obliged. After we checked things out, we came back and thanked him and sat down again. [Our server] returned and offered to bring us three different meat dishes: sides of plantains, rice and beans, and meat pies, their version of empanadas. She also brought me a sample of something I had never seen, a very traditional Jamaican dish of ackee and salted fish served hot, so I could try it, after asking several questions at the store front.

Everything was spicy and delicious. [The man] seemed to gravitate toward Maurice, he kept asking questions from across the small dining room. As a native Jamaican, he came to this restaurant about once a week for its authentic Jamaican food. Before he left, him and his son shook our hands, going around the table, and we took ouropportunity. We asked if we could pray for them before they left. The son smiled uneasily but friendly like, the dad took a slight defensive stance. The son said quietly, don’t get him started. Apparently, they had just had an hour and a half long discussion about faith. The son, presumably a believer, but the dad was not. I believe God put us there as an undeniable confirmation of what the son has been trying to tell the father.

[He] started telling us that he prayed every night, but that he wasn’t religious. He said he was raised catholic, but he did not believe “all that stuff anymore.” He rejected most of the arguments that we threw out. The conversation was short, we did not want Victor to feel that he had been ambushed. We wrapped it up, assured them we would keep them in our prayers and how thankful we were to meet them.

We had just begun to eat, and as we wrapped up, we asked Lisa if we could pray for her. She went and got a lovely older Jamaican man who was the owner. He started this business 21 years ago as a food stand. Him and his wife cooked food at home and had sold it on the very corner that their restaurant stood on today. He identified as a Christian, also being raised in the Catholic church, but no longer active in church, but faithful nevertheless. He said Brixton is an area that needs some change and some hope. Before we went to Brixton, we learned that there was no church there and that Alex, who is a part of Kahaila, has been praying that one will be planted there. The owner’s name was Stafford or Sanford. He wanted prayer for all the things that we all want, provision, protection, favor, and we add, revival and a church for Brixton. He also said, “more cash in his pocket.” He joined us around the table, and we all held hands and prayed together. He spoke a blessing over us before we left, and we made a note to let Alex know, through Lauren, that this may be a place to start the conversation about a church plant. Maybe Sanford would help be a catalyst for that.

Our team made its way to Madina Charcoal grill. We were supposed to eat at a burger place, but after searching for a while and uncovering a lovely park we didn’t know was there, we landed at Madina. It was very small and at first glance, did not look like it would accommodate our party for seating. Amazingly, they had a hidden basement area, and it seemed like we would have the very small area all to ourselves, but that only lasted a few minutes.

Then two Indian couples came in, the women were both wearing saris. We said hello as they entered and carried on. When our food arrived, we blessed our food and ate and visited amongst ourselves, not long after, their food arrived, they ate and visited amongst themselves.

As we finished up, our team began to go off and wash their hands, use the restrooms and wait outside. Most of our team had headed back upstairs, I waited for Kasaundra, but also went up and grabbed a to go box because we had a lot of good food left over. I packed it up with the hope that we might encounter someone in need, so it would not be wasted.

As I packed up the food, the 2 couples were also starting to get ready to leave, but I sensed a lingering. One of the men seemed unable to resist asking us if we were from the “east coast,” I knew what he meant and said in my most silly Texas accent, “nope, we are from Tex-us, Dallas” everyone laughed and seemed to appreciate my silliness. I asked if they had been in London all their lives and he said yes, but east London.

He said they were getting tired of it though, because it was getting so busy. I said, I know what you mean. That was happening in Dallas. He said “really?” in a very surprised tone. I said, “oh yes, especially folks from California,” again I was being a little silly to keep things light. They laughed.

[My teammate] added that in Texas, we don’t have a property tax and our cost of living is reasonably low, especially compared to other parts of the country, like California, but I added “yeah, but folks seem determined to drive it up, supply and demand,” also in a lighthearted joking way that they seemed to appreciate.

He wanted to know if it was true that Texas wanted to be its own country. I said yes, but you can’t believe everything you read and hear. He asked if I thought that would ever happen and I said “no”. That seemed to help segue into what he really wanted to talk about, Trump. I had done my research, looking up American news interests in London, Trump’s latest conviction was at the top of the list of British/American news that day. He started talking about Trump and Biden, and I said, “yes,” agreeing with a lot of what he was saying, but I added that “we are Christians, it is our job to look to the Lord and trust God for our leadership above all, pray for our leaders, and keep our faith strong and our eyes on God.”

He knew his stuff, he asked if we were “evangelical Christians,” a group he seemed to know full well, Trump aligns himself with. I said “yes, but again, you can’t believe everything you read and hear in the news.” He spoke about how Trump was smart, manipulating voters, seemingly playing both sides, and I agreed, and I added “that that is what many politicians do, but again, we pray for our leaders and trust God.” He went on to say more about Trump and Biden, comparing their presidencies, death and war on each of their watches while in office and I listened, but ended as we were inching toward the door, knowing our team was all waiting outside, I reiterated “we have a strong faith in God as Christians, and the upcoming election and presidencies and government and so much more, is why we are desperately dependent on Jesus. These are all the things that we pray for and look to God to for help and guidance.” The conversation was pleasant and light, despite the potentially heavy subject matter. In the end, I am pretty sure that I had made the point that we weren’t on any side, but the side of our faith and trust in God. I believe I had presented a strong argument for Jesus, and that was all that I was led to do before moving along. I pray that God used my pleasant demeanor, filled with love for the Lord and the hope that I have in Him to be a witness, despite what this man may have heard or judged of Christians. They wished us well and we did the same.

I was telling my Uber driver about the sense of peace I had after all the adversity I have come through. And he said he wanted that and asked how I got it, and how he could get it. I told him to pursue Jesus Christ with all the effort he could muster.

[He] was our tour guide and we were able ask him to join Sue and I for a drink after the tour. Both his parents are atheists but Jimmy was open to spiritual conversations. We shared the gospel with him and he was visibly moved. We are continuing our conversation via Instagram. Praying for God’s Spirit to capture his heart.

We started a summer discipleship group for high school girls who had been in our youth group at the NCC. On the first day, one girl came. She was not the girl I was expecting, but it turned out to be God’s sovereign plan for her to be there. We started out just by chatting about where she was in her relationship with the Lord. She expressed a hunger to read the Bible and pray more. As we talked, it became clear she had never given her life to the Lord. So I used the three circles visual to share the gospel with her. She decided she wanted to trust Jesus as her Savior — praise God! We prayed together and she accepted Jesus. Then we did a little Bible study together so she can start learning how to know God through the Bible. God has been repeatedly showing me how He accomplishes His work in people’s heart, and we get the joy of Him inviting us into it! I’m so glad that He worked out this discipleship group according to His plan and not mine :).