Last Tuesday I received a brief email in my church inbox from a Gmail account I didn’t recognize.  It said, “I need to talk to you asap.”  That’s it.

I was instantly suspicious.

Because my church email address is public on the church website, I frequently get phony or unsolicited emails- people phishing, random people asking for money, and tons of dubious links that I instantly delete.  This email had all the markings of a fake, but I didn’t want to completely write it off, so I cautiously replied, “I would be happy to talk with you.  Please let me know how best to contact you.”  I heard nothing back and deleted the email.

Five days later, this past Sunday, I preached from Luke 4:14-21, where Jesus said he came to reach people who were poor, imprisoned, blind, and oppressed.  It was Compassion Sunday and we also had missionary Todd Block from Village of Hope in Guatemala.  So, it was a timely message as I challenged our church to be aware that there are “unseen” people in our world who are often overlooked.  Then, in both services I concluded the message by praying that God would bring across everyone’s path this week a person we would normally overlook so we might have an opportunity to truly “see” and share Jesus’ love with them.

Be careful what you pray for!

Monday afternoon as I was driving home from church, I got a phone call from an unknown 484 number.  I’m usually slow to take a call when I’m driving and almost never take one from an unidentified number.  But for whatever reason I answered this one.

On the other end was a woman sobbing uncontrollably.  She said her name, but I couldn’t catch it. In fact, between the sobbing and spotty cell phone coverage, I couldn’t catch much detail at all. But I got the general gist that she was on the run from a domestic abuse situation, had been living in a homeless shelter in Reading and was afraid for her life.  All the while I’m wracking my brain to place the voice and situation, both of which sounded vaguely familiar.

But when she said the name of her abuser it all came rushing back to me because it was a very unusual name.

I’m not at liberty to share the entire story, but a year and a half ago, I met this woman in Reading and prayed with her.  She had told me her story- casual drug use, a bad car accident with multiple surgeries that led to an opioid addiction. Opiates progressed to crack cocaine and the severing of all family relationships, save a violent live-in boyfriend.  She was penniless, desperate and in danger of being evicted from her row home but unwilling to make a break with her abusive partner.  After praying with and for her, the last thing I did was give her my business card, tell her she deserved better than this, and say if she ever wanted to make a break, I’d be willing to help.

All this information came flooding back to me while she talked.  She said she was sitting outside a homeless shelter on 2^nd street in Reading and was terrified that “he” would find her. Could I come pick her up?  … Wow, that’s a big ask. So, to buy some time I told her I’d try to make a few phone calls and get back to her.  This was way out of my league.  What had I gotten myself into?

As I prayed and mulled things over, the name of a relative flashed to mind. Thank you, Jesus!  I knew the family had been estranged for several years- the sins, lies and deception fueled by drugs and desperation had long since eroded any trust and relationship.  But maybe I could at least get some insight into the situation.  I called and spoke with a relative about the phone call I had received.  They were unaware and surprised but thanked me.  About 30 minutes went by and I got a text from the relative, “Can you pick her up?  She’s in Reading and has to leave now.”  I replied, “where should I take her?”  Pause.  Then, “You can bring her to our place for now.” … “Ok” I texted back.

So, I hopped in the car to drive the 19 miles to downtown Reading.  And all the while I’m second guessing myself.  My inner wrestling went something like this.  “This isn’t a good idea.  It’s a bridge too far.  You can’t even remember what she looks like.  What happens if the boyfriend shows up?  He’s a BIG guy.  What, are you going to drive all around central reading scanning for a person you can’t even recognize? But also, in the back of my mind was the voice of the Holy Spirit, running a parallel commentary.  “So, what was that message you preached yesterday?  And what did you pray to God for twice in front of the congregation?  And who did Jesus come to save?  What was that?  Something like… the poor, imprisoned, blind and oppressed?  I don’t work with coincidences, Steve.  It’s all carefully planned.  You must trust me on this one.”

I arrived at the homeless shelter and it was everything I feared it might be- on a dead-end street with homeless wandering up and down the sidewalk; disheveled people sitting around smoking who knows what.  I drove to the end of the cul-de-sac, turned the car around and there stood two women, one with a walker.  It was her.

I stopped in the middle of the street, put on my 4-way flashers, and quickly got out.  She burst into tears and mouthed “thank you.”  I said, “Are you ready to go?”  She nodded, hugged her friend, and hobbled her way around to the passenger side.  Her friend called out, “thank you!” I stowed her walker in the back, and we drove away. The whole transaction took less than 2 minutes.

It was a 25-minute trip to her relative’s home.  And her story tumbled out uncontrollably like the tears flowing down her cheeks.  She had held on to my business card for the last year and a half as their residence skipped from the row home to an abandoned building to a homeless shelter to an apartment and back to the shelter.  Then about two weeks ago everything hit the fan- danger, violence, chaos. She went for my business card, but it was gone.  She looked everywhere among her handful of belongings to no avail. But she remembered enough information to find our church website and send off a desperate email.  THAT was the mysterious email I received on May 2^nd and deleted.  But my reply had contained an automatic signature that included the church phone number.  She had called that number and Christel routed it through to my cell phone.

This dear woman is now safely with relatives.  I tried to give her words of hope, comfort and challenge that pointed to Jesus. It took her 11 years to finally gather the courage to leave this abusive relationship.  She has a hard and uncertain future and I’m not sure there’s much we can do other than pray.  But I do know that God included me in his plan and I did what I could. I also know that there are still more unseen people around us that Jesus came to save.  Let’s keep our eyes and our hearts open to the Holy Spirit’s leading because there are real people who need to be introduced to a real God who really desires to rescue them.

Please pray for this woman.