A Knock on the Door (pt. 2)
After I was home, I felt bad for some of the things I had thought about the new family. They were in a new place, without a vehicle, without a phone, and obviously without much money. Jesus told us to help the poor. Jesus told us to love our neighbors. And so I decided to have a good attitude about it, and to do what I could to be like Jesus. Maybe if we could build a relationship, there would be opportunity to show the gospel in both action and word. And so when one of the kids came back to the door a couple hours later needing to use the phone again, I gladly complied.
And then they kept coming over. At least two or three times a day, the doorbell would ring. Not just a single polite "ding-dong", but "ding-dong-ding-dong-ding-dong." In the afternoon. In the evening. As late as 9 or 10 o'clock sometimes. Needless to say, loud doorbells aren't a good thing when you have a newborn. Usually it was one or two of the kids. "Can we use your phone?" they would ask. Generally, they wanted someone to come pick them up, since they didn't have a car. So I would hand them the cordless and wait while they sat on the front steps and talked to their dad or aunt or whoever they were trying to call. "Can you give us a ride?" would be the question if they couldn't get ahold of them.
I know Jesus taught to help the poor, but I came to the conclusion that this doesn't mean being a phone booth or a taxi driver. I told the kids to keep it to one call per day, unless it was something really important. And I found excuses not to give rides. This didn't stop them from coming over, but they must have realized their phone booth was about to close. After a few days their mom came over to borrow the phone to call the phone company. Most people do this right away, but not Yolanda. I got excited the next day when I saw a white truck driving back to their house. Until I realized it was the cable guy. You've gotta have priorities right?
Eventually the line was installed--about a week after they moved in. Except then they needed a phone to plug into it. I had an old one in the basement that I gave them. It was a small price to pay to keep the doorbell quiet.
(to be continued…)
And then they kept coming over. At least two or three times a day, the doorbell would ring. Not just a single polite "ding-dong", but "ding-dong-ding-dong-ding-dong." In the afternoon. In the evening. As late as 9 or 10 o'clock sometimes. Needless to say, loud doorbells aren't a good thing when you have a newborn. Usually it was one or two of the kids. "Can we use your phone?" they would ask. Generally, they wanted someone to come pick them up, since they didn't have a car. So I would hand them the cordless and wait while they sat on the front steps and talked to their dad or aunt or whoever they were trying to call. "Can you give us a ride?" would be the question if they couldn't get ahold of them.
I know Jesus taught to help the poor, but I came to the conclusion that this doesn't mean being a phone booth or a taxi driver. I told the kids to keep it to one call per day, unless it was something really important. And I found excuses not to give rides. This didn't stop them from coming over, but they must have realized their phone booth was about to close. After a few days their mom came over to borrow the phone to call the phone company. Most people do this right away, but not Yolanda. I got excited the next day when I saw a white truck driving back to their house. Until I realized it was the cable guy. You've gotta have priorities right?
Eventually the line was installed--about a week after they moved in. Except then they needed a phone to plug into it. I had an old one in the basement that I gave them. It was a small price to pay to keep the doorbell quiet.
(to be continued…)
posted by Alan at 1:42 PM
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