Then there is Rick. He is my next door neighbor. A down to earth, blue collar, welder with a terrier named Rambo (the dog was his wife's who passed away two years ago). I was watering my front yard with a hand spray and he was doing the same next door. I asked him if he had anything planned for the weekend and he said no because he didn't have a place for his dog, and he wasn't going to kennel him. He laughed and said his wife would probably do something to him. At one point he said the F word and quickly tried to pull it back (I don't know why). Rick told me the people who use to live in our house were Christians, but not very good ones (that came out of the blue). Not sure what that meant. He seems lonely and cares for his yard with the tenderness I am sure his wife displayed. There is the lady across the street whose husband is in prison and is struggling to raise two girls. The neibghbors on the other side are active with lots of different people who are nice, but not too talkative.
You see, I don't have to be nice, but I am compelled to. The love of Christ constrains me and I would be remiss if I did not care. As a believer it is built into my DNA. I am to love like Jesus loved me. I am to reach out as God reached out to me. I am be an example of a "good" Christian, whatever that means.
It is much more difficult on this side of the cloth, but that's ok. My vocation may not be pastor, but my calling is to bear witness to Christ. It's the same for all of us. I'm just saying....
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