Often, and by necessity, we are suspicious of the stories told by folks who drop by the church office asking for help. The more complicated and compelling, it seems, the more likely that the story is a sham. The punch line is usually the same. "No, I don't want to go to CAST. I just need some money to pay the rent/fix the car/visit the doctor/heat the house." That is, I just need some money to support my addiction.

But Mary Beth sensed that this young man and his story were different. "I think you need to talk to him," she said as she came into my study. And so I talked with him and listened and prayed for a long time. He never asked for money, but he did ask for Christ.

Mike, let's call him, is in his late twenties. He wants nothing more than to be a good father to his two sons, 4 and 18 months, and a faithful husband to his wife. Mike is a likable guy. He works 60 hours or more each week at a large Pittsburgh company trying to provide for his young family. But old cars break down and winter heating bills were high. Debt has piled up and just when they think they're going to begin to move ahead, there's another unexpected demand on Mike's thin paycheck. With sixty hours of night shift work and kids underfoot, there's not much time for Mike and his wife to work on their marriage. Mike's been promised a promotion, they say it's coming, but paperwork and bureaucracy has kept it coming for weeks and weeks and it's still not here. Maybe next week.

Mike's wife doesn't think she can wait for one more next week to roll around. She's told him that she simply can't see any way out of it all other than out. She says she needs a break from being married and needs to be able to figure out who she is. She thinks she ought to move back home with her mom and find a little space away from Mike.

Four years ago, when Mike was still in the service and about the time he got married, Mike became a Christian. God used a Presbyterian minister who was the base chaplain to call Mike to faith. But with little kids, sixty hours of night shift, a pile of debt and a wife who did not share his new life in Christ, Mike never got back to church. No more time to work on his faith than to work on his marriage.

Mike was driving home earlier this week thinking about it all – the possibility of a broken marriage and his boys growing up as he did without a dad at home. The closer he got to Beaver the heavier the load of guilt and remorse and hopelessness became. He felt as if he had failed at marriage, failed as a father and, most of all, failed the Christ whose love he had experienced so deeply just a few years ago. Mike stopped at three other churches before he came to Park. The doors of two of them were locked and the pastor at the third was at an all day meeting. When he saw the sign for Park, he remembered there was something he liked about Presbyterians.

I don't know how long Mike and I talked. Mostly I listened to his story and asked a few questions. I reminded him of God's faithfulness. "How can we help you?" I asked and I told him that we could offer some financial assistance. "No, we'll make it financially," he said. "Could you ask the people to pray for me?" He said he wondered if he needed to be rebaptized and if he could receive communion. I gave him a brief lesson in Reformed Theology. Baptism is a gracious gift of God given once, but the invitation to the Table is always open.

Mike and I went into the Sanctuary and I read from the Psalms and Isaiah, the gospels and Romans 8. We prayed and Mike's anguish flowed as freely as his tears. He asked Jesus to accept him back and we talked about the Prodigal's father. Then, on Christ's behalf, I knelt before Mike and offered him bread and the cup. "Mike, Christ's body given for you. His blood shed for you." After awhile, Mike was ready to go home. I told him to call anytime. I took his phone number and promised that I'd be in touch. And I promised him that Park people would pray for him and his wife and boys just as he had asked.