“Why do you have locks on your refrigerator?” The question held a hint of sarcasm laced with genuine curiosity. Ellie looked up from the smoothie she was blending for the girl and laughed. “Oh, they were for Jakey. A few years ago he used to wake up super early in the morning and steal junk food.”
Ellie turned back to the blender and pulsed it a few more times. Even though it had been nearly two years ago, she remembered it like it was yesterday. Right after she and her husband had brought home the new baby, three year old Jacob had begun his early morning “experiments”. One morning he had stolen ice cream and chocolate syrup from the freezer and turned his bedroom into an ice cream sundae. Hence the locks.
Ellie took the lid from the blender and sloppily poured the thick purplish liquid into a neon cup. Every time the girl came over, she always requested smoothies. Ellie liked this because it gave her a chance to sneak some vegetables into her diet.
The girl, a dark haired pre-teenager, laughed at the story and sipped from the cup. She made a face. “Straw?” she requested.
“Oh sorry,” exclaimed Ellie. She supposed the straw was half the experience, so she grabbed one quickly from the cupboard and handed it to the girl. The girl sipped again then said, “We used to have locks on our refrigerator too. But it was because we weren’t allowed to eat.” She sipped again, with a little more vigor, like she might actually be afraid Ellie would take the drink away.
“What?!” exclaimed Ellie. “Not allowed to eat?”
The girl treated it like it was a little thing. “Nope. My sister and I had to sneak food when they were sleeping. I used to get so thirsty I’d go outside and eat snow.”
Ellie stepped over and hugged the girl tightly. She was at a loss for words. “I-I’m sorry,” was all she could muster.
“Ehh,” said the girl, like it wasn’t a big deal. Ellie squeezed her shoulders again. “Praise God it isn’t like that now.” The girl sighed, “Yeah,” she said. “I’m glad I don’t live there anymore.”
Ellie was saddened by this exchange, but she wasn’t surprised. The Community was a HUD housing project located in the city. It was a hotbed of drugs, gangs, and anger. In the midst of it, The Community was crawling with children; the innocents who always seemed to be in the way. In fact, this past year alone there had been three shootings where minors had been wounded. There were even reports of a 14 year old wielding one of the weapons during the last.
Ellie had a hard time believing places like this existed in America. She wondered if her friends believed her when she told them the stories of brokenness and heartbreak. She and her husband had encountered much in their 12 year ministry to The Community. Like how, on their second Sunday at church, they had met a mother and her teenage son. The boy was silent with arms crossed, staring at the ground. Ellie just assumed he was another rebellious teen. Later that afternoon he went home and shot himself in the head. She sang at the funeral.
There was another time a woman they’d been ministering to had called her up at 1 A.M, higher than a kite, threatening to kill her. Ellie had called the police to do a well-check on the woman the previous morning, when she hadn’t shown up for church. It turned out the woman had been using, with a child in the home. The police had removed the child into protective custody, and the woman was obviously upset. Ellie and her husband acquired the family dog after that incident.
Ellie and the girl finished their smoothies. Ellie was thankful that she had the opportunity to be a blessing to this young lady. She reflected inwardly about the numerous times she’d wanted to give up the ministry. Admittedly, in her prayer times, Ellie had often begged God to let them quit. She was often afraid, and people in The Community weren’t interested in church. Yet she never felt like God had given them the green light to stop. Lots of people quit when it came to The Community, or worse, refused to acknowledge its existence.
“Trust.” That word from the Lord came back to her again and again when she would pray. Ellie had a hard time with that. It was easier to give in to her anxieties when she saw darkness every day. But even in her own failings she could not deny that God had always been faithful. The times God had protected her family and provided for them were permanently stamped in her memory.
And then again, two years ago, the whisper echoed back into her heart. “Trust.” She realized, in fact, that the Lord was still not allowing them to quit. He reminded her that he was her rock when was afraid, and he wanted to be theirs too. The Lord was asking them to stop their full time jobs in the church and expand their youth discipleship program in The Community. He had given them a vision to mentor kids, take them into their home, bring them to healthy churches, and even pilot a literacy program. It was insane, and Ellie had no idea where the money would come from. But still…”Trust.”
And now, here she was. Ellie snapped out of her thoughts and looked at the girl. She drew in a breath. “I know the past is hard sometimes, isn’t it.” The girl didn’t look at her, but nodded. “You know,” said Ellie with conviction, “you can really trust the Lord. He loves you, hon. He’ll never ever let you go.”
“And God help us, we won’t either.” That last part was a thought and a prayer. The girl looked at Ellie and smiled. “Thank you.” She said softly.