Losing to find: trying to bless in a broken city

Grace Baptist Church Wood Green sits on a street of terraced houses, four doors removed from Martins Walk (a vandalised public walk way strewn with litter and pools of urine and faeces), and the behemoth of a building that houses The Mall (popularly known by its old name “Shopping City”), and Sky City – a social housing estate. In front of the building is a small bricked over space we sometimes spill out onto in warmer months to chat, and on occasion, have BBQs. If I linger there for any time at all, whatever the season, there is a good chance that I will enjoy a good conversation with a neighbour, meet someone new to the area (or at least new to me!), or get caught up in some local excitement. Yesterday afternoon was no exception, although I was not lingering there in hopes of such interaction!

Early in the afternoon, I spoke with a man in front of the church who I found standing there in quiet, brooding contemplation. His eyes were filled with sadness and his face and teeth bore the signs of drug use. He was worried about someone he loves, but lost around the time he started doing crack, and he fears for her safety. He talked and I listened. He asked me questions revolving around what he should do and listened intently. Tragically, he professes faith. I say tragically, because the life he lives is not faithful or even in pursuit of faithfulness, and as long as he kids himself otherwise he will continue to see the problems in other people but not in himself, which will only lead to more hurt and sadness.

"Yes I do drugs, but I'm also a human being with feelings and emotions." True words, sad words, but it is unlikely the woman he loves could or should welcome him back, and she and those around her may never care for his humanity. But God does. This man carries something of a shattered image of God, but God can heal what is broken in Christ: this man is always welcome to come to God and the gathering of his people - an invitation that I extended.

Later in the afternoon as I sat in the church flat, I heard a scream, followed by prolonged shrieking that gave way to uncontrollable wailing. I ran outside to see what was going on, to find a woman next to a baby's pushchair shaking and speaking in Turkish hysterically into a phone. At first I thought something terrible had happened with the baby, so was relieved that the little girl was quite well. She saw me, and pleading, said

"They took everything. They got into my car and took everything."

She dropped to her knees, quite out of control, continued to scream and weep.

I took the phone and spoke with her husband who was understandably quite upset, then called the police, who arrived quickly - a response time aided by the operator hearing the woman's screams. I then spoke with the woman's sister on the phone, and could hear someone I presumed was the mother screaming and crying in the background. The big mystery to me was, why the theatrics? Pretty much everyone in this dark city, myself included, has been robbed - sometimes more than once. It is a part of life sadly, but someone taking your purse is hardly life ending.

But it wasn't just a purse. It was a couple of bags. And in those bags was the family's gold jewellery, traditionally worn at weddings. Oh, and the combined life savings of three people - £20,000.

As we waited for the forensics team in the vain hope that something might be found, I fetched a couple of chairs and spoke with the woman. She was terrified of how her family would respond. I gave her details of a safe place, if she found herself in danger, written in the cover of a Turkish language copy of Ultimate Questions by John Blanchard.

"I've lost everything."

"No you haven't. You might not feel it, but you haven't. You have your life. Your car. Your children. You husband, who is on his way. You're going to make it. But let me tell you the story of a man who came a lot closer to losing everything..."

And I told her the story of Job, and pointed her ultimately to the Lord Job blessed, who came down to us in the person of Jesus Christ and said "Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you."

"I've lost so much. First my father. Then my brother. Now all that we have worked for, to save. Why would Allah let me lose so much?"

"Sometimes God lets us lose things, even everything, so that we might find what really matters. Perhaps through this he is revealing himself to you, so that you may know who he really is, what he is really like."

Forensics arrived, as did her husband, who was furious - as the primary worker of the home, much of the money was hard-earned and saved by him. I feared his behaviour would only be damaging, and with the police making moves in his direction, I put my arm around him and gently led him away, urging him to restrain himself, and though he didn't feel like being kind or gentle, to try, and thereby show true strength. He calmed down significantly and let me pray with and for him.  They have no hope of recovering what was stolen and I fear they have a long, very hard road to travel as a family, but join me in praying that they will remember the conversation we had. It may be forgotten until such a time as they, like Job, reach the point where what they have surpasses what was lost. Or perhaps it will come sooner, and in remembering what was said, they find Jesus, and in him find worth surpassing anything they could ever lose.