confessions of a bad neighbor

-by Christy Fitzwater 

I smile at my neighbors every time I drive by them –but I’ve made little effort to get to know them.  That’s the ugly truth.  I drive by them on my way to church, but I don’t know their names. 

I took a daring action a few days ago.  I was driving down my street when I saw my neighbor from two doors down pulling weeds by her driveway.  

So I stopped the car and rolled down the window.  (Are missionaries in Africa as brave as this?) 

I said, Hi, I’m a pathetic neighbor and always drive by without even talking to you.  I don’t even know you’re name! 

Stacie, she replied. 

I’m Christy. 

Christine? 

No, Christy. 

I proceeded to ask about her kids.  Her oldest will be a senior next year.  I told her, My daughter just graduated last weekend.  If you need sympathy next year, you can talk to me! 

We chatted for a few more minutes, and I drove away.  I wonder if Stacie knows Jesus. 

I’d like to find out. 

Do you know your neighbors?

I want a story

-by Rebekah McPeak

Do you ever hear the voice of that snotty girl from Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory in your own?

I do.

I'm lucky. My boss is a Christian -and not just the type of Christian who goes to church and "respects my beliefs." The other day he called me into his office, and he was acting like a giddy school boy. His excitement was contagious. He couldn't wait to tell me his story. He proceeded to share about how he had just walked with someone from DEATH to LIFE, and it was the very first time he was part of the moment...the decision. We were all smiles as he relayed the story.

He told me of his intentionality in looking for a bridge to talk about Christ in the natural context of his life. His willingness to follow the Holy Spirit instead of his own self-conscience nature. His boldness to ask the question, Do you want to commit your life to Christ...right now? His total joy in someone's salvation. I couldn't believe it. I could totally believe it. It was a great day.

Now here comes the part about Willie Wonka.

It was the voice inside me as I walked down the hall. Away from that life-giving conversation with my friend.

I want a story.

What about me, God? I want a golden ticket, too!

Seriously. Angels were jumping up and down, blowing party horns. There was a crazy celebration going on in heaven, and I tried to interrupt. Um, excuse me God, but where's my story?

In that moment I didn't hear God's booming voice to silence me, but I should have. God WANTS me to make my story happen. He's handing me opportunities. What am I going to do about it?

Do you want a story, too?