^{marrion8955@yahoo.com}

And being moved with pity and sympathy, Jesus reached out His hand and touched him…” Luke 1:41 (MSG) 

My daughter and I share the computer at home, we both like to “chat” online with those far away and it saves on the phone bill. It gives us the freedom to keep in touch with friends and family far away and access to a whole different world of people whom we might not meet otherwise. Recently, it allowed me a ministry opportunity that came unexpectedly. 

The other evening while my daughter was not at home, one of her friends in the Plains states logged on, or at least I thought it was her friend. We have some of our friends on both of our lists so that if one or the other of us is logged on, we can see when our personal friends come online. Last night, I was logged on when one of her friends signed in. Her teenage friends chat with me when she is busy and they think that I am “cool,” a very high rating indeed. It always interests me to see if the young people she talks to feel comfortable talking with an adult, and just last week this young man had told me that I was the “only normal adult” with whom he could talk comfortably. I sent a message to greet him saying, “Hi, Mom here.” 

Imagine my shock when the response to my greeting was filled with profanity demanding to know who I was? Immediately I knew it must be the younger brother logged in under his older brother’s name. My daughter had shared some of these young men’s background with me, and I knew that their mother had died of a massive heart attack when they were only 12 and 8 years of age. I simply used, “Mom” because I thought that her friend wouldn’t remember my name and would know me as my daughter’s mom. Beginning with a quiet prayer for wisdom, I began to reach out to this young man.

He was quite offended that I had said, "Mom here," telling me that their mother was dead and they didn’t need a mother. So we began to talk, messaging back and forth, he with anger, and I with quiet patience. He was quite contentious in his initial messages but I continued to answer calmly and kindly. I really prayed as we IM’d each other that I could show the love of Jesus to this boy who had lost his parents--Dad is a missing alcoholic, Mom was dead and the grandparents had stepped in.

Gradually, he calmed down as I explained why I had used the term "Mom," until finally, he apologized. Sensing that this was a moment to reach out, I began to share with him that I too had suffered losses--my parents deserted me at age four. I pointed out that he had had a very loving mother who wanted him and cherished him, and that that was very different than my experience. As he became calmer, I pointed out that all of us have losses but that we have somewhere to turn. Throughout the conversation, he wouldn't tell me his name. Then I asked him a question that I knew would fascinated him because he was a teenager–I asked him if he knew that God had a tattoo? This really got him and he wrote, “No way.”

So I explained that in the Bible it says God has his (the young man’s) name engraved on the palm of His hand—whatever that name was. By this time, he told me how nice it was to talk to me; this from the teen who was swearing at me only a few minutes before. We continued to chat a bit longer about loss and God, when suddenly he typed, "I gotta go dustin." I typed, "Glad to meet you, Dustin." As we chatted, I told him to remember that somebody way out West was praying for him. He said OK, he would. Then he began to sign off, saying, Adios, Ciao, etc. I jokingly sent back, "Tasty Banana, Hasta Lumbago." He said, “WHAT?” I laughingly explained it was modified Spanish. He laughed and bid me goodbye telling me he hoped we could talk again.

What a sweet opportunity God gave me to minister the tiniest bit of love into this young man's heart. Late at night when I was home alone and could have been glued to the TV or in bed, here was a moment to reach out to someone. How often do these moments occur in our lives, and we don’t notice them or don’t use them to reach out to hurting souls? Do we pay attention and look for moments to reach out? Maybe we could give a wave or a smile as we drive along? Perhaps an act of kindness to a stranger in a store would be as simple as letting them go ahead of you in line or simply saying a kind word?  

Who knows what that tiniest flicker of kindness and sharing will plant for a future harvest? I love to look for those opportunities, no matter where they come from, even cyberspace, and they come every day. May we—just like Jesus—be moved with “pity and sympathy” and the heartfelt craving for souls for the Kingdom of God, reaching out as those ministry moments come into our lives.

Copyright 2004 by Desiree Marrion

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Desirée Marrion is single mom, grandmother, and administrative assistant at the Center for Health Research, Kaiser Permanente Northwest, in  Portland, Oregon. You may reach her at: marrion8955@yahoo.com.