Saturday, March 15, 2008

Making a difference, Part I

Have you ever had something happen and later thought about how it could have been different?

Just over two years now, that happened to me. I had just gotten back to the states from Peru, South America. I was so pumped about being part of a new work here in the states, as well as excited about returning to Peru for another 6 months to continue a work there. I was in the zone you know what I mean, working hard so what were doing would make a difference. 

Then I got a phone call from my brothers best friend. I had let my brother use my cell phone while I was out of the country, so I didn't think much about it when I got calls for him. Wesley, was really a part of our family, he and Billy were closer then brothers. So when he called we talked for a few minutes, getting caught up on what I had missed the last couple of years. 

He told me about his new baby girl, just a month old. He mentioned how Erin, his soon to be wife was doing. He explained where he was working and living now. I listened to the sweet way he was describing everything going on in his life. He had a sheepish way about him. Then he said, "April, I want you to know I am proud of you." I just had to laugh it off and said "Wes, why are you proud of me." He replied, "Becuase you are not doing the same things you use to." I was caught off guard and just responded with, "You know Wes, you don't have to do the things you are doing". Then with a laugh he shrugged it off "Yeah, I know." 

The conversation was over and I was thrilled I had the chance to talk to him. I went back to the office in high spirits. I told a few people what happened, I was thinking it was great maybe my brother and Wes would start going to church or at least visit. I remember feeling so good about my self that day. Then back to the grind stone. 

I was helping start a new church, I had tons going on. Meetings, classes, calling, setting up for this or that. So when Wes called again, I laughed it off, because I had told him that I was using my phone while I was in the country and that I would tell Billy to give him a call. I still don't remember if I made time to do that. 

I was in the kitchen at the church when he called the third time. I was busy, too busy to talk to him much at all. I reminded him, I had the phone, he was always a little forgetful, although the drugs didn't help. He seemed embarrassed, and I felt a little sorry for him. I told him I would have Billy call. I didn't make the time to call my brother. 

I was in my own little world at the church, putting together something. When I got a call from my mom. I could hear her crying as told me that Wes was dead. I just couldn't believe it. No, I talked to him, I just talked to him. It wasn't true, I know it's not true. She said, it was drugs they found him in the dealers (his friends) house. I told her I had to go, I couldn't hear anymore. I hung up the phone and freaked out. Lets just say I couldn't see straight, I felt like someone had just punched me in the chest. I was hurting not only for myself but for my brother who had lost his best friend. I was trying to make a difference in the world and I couldn't make a difference in Wesley's life. 

What was I doing? Why couldn't I see God giving me the chance to talk to him. He was gone,  no more accidental phone calls & no tomorrow's to ask him about salvation or invite him to church. I had failed him. God gave me three chances and I let all of them slip through unnoticed. 

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