STILL LOOKING

It was January, 1992. I hate January in Illinois. It’s cold and windy and…January in Illinois. Filling my car up with gas one day, the wind blew a piece of trash up against my leg. I kicked it away. (Sorry, I wasn’t green in 1992, and, did I mention…it was cold and windy?)

After the pump clicked off, signaling my tank full and my bank account empty, I went in and paid the bill. Coming out of the station, the wind hit me again, and so did the trash. This time I bent over and picked it up. It was the same crumpled paper that had attacked my leg earlier. With no garbage can in sight, I pushed it into my coat pocket and walked back to the car. The next morning, I pulled it out and realized it was a letter. This is the letter. Just in case you can't read it, here's what it says:

"Dear Santa, My Christmas Wish is for my father to walk in the Back Door. Please try to Accomplish this Christmas Wish if you can't accomplish this wish then that is fine Because I know you have tons of kids you have to attend to!

Your Friend,

Carrie Annie

I still remember warm tears on that cold day. Those were not easy days. I was “trivocational.” In addition to leading a small country church, I worked for the State of Illinois as a Court Appointed Advocate for young people, on a garbage truck as a loader, and drove back and forth to a school 1.5 hours away. But suddenly, after reading the letter, I didn’t have any problems.

From that point forward in ministry, I’ve been looking for Carrie Annie and her father. We prepare for them every Sunday at OFC, the church I currently pastor. They’re the reason we adopted Rick Warren’s strategy of believing that, “every Sunday is Easter.”

They are why numbers matter to us. They will be counted somewhere by someone, and if it’s us, we want to be ready. We don’t want to miss our chance. They are why we plan and pray and sacrifice and make difficult choices. It's why we ask our regulars to park across the street and ride the shuttle. It won’t be an easy road back for Carrie Annie's father. We want to make sure he knows it’s possible. She was wounded terribly 20 years ago. We want to make sure she knows that there is healing in the Name of Jesus.

Carrie Annie and her father are why we embrace difficult decisions. They’re why we say “okay” when a few people leave our church for other churches because they think we focus too much on reaching the un-churched. They don't approve of our methods. We don't ask them to; we just ask those who stay to keep looking.

Here’s what we know. Santa Claus can’t make Carrie Annie’s wish come true, but Jesus can. After all, Jesus already has a rescue team on the ground. We’re it. Carrie Annie and her father are who we’re looking for, next question?

bw