In my brief six-plus decades, not much stands out as particularly strange. I may be thought strange, but as far as strange things happening to me, they’ve been few and far between.
In fact, I tried to scan the memory banks of my childhood, I couldn’t come up with much that would be considered a strange occurrence.
There was the time I somehow ended up on the ground with a kid sitting on my chest, pinning my arms down. I think I’ve written about that before.
In 5th grade, on the playground for recess, a fight broke out next to the school building. A large group of kids gathered ‘round, cheering for their choice to prevail. And somehow, strangely, next thing I know, I was shoved into the fray. One of the adversaries must have thought it was a tag-team match—he left, and I ended up pinned to the ground.
Until Principal Ford showed up and hauled the two of us to his office. Yes, the original fighter, whom I unwittingly tagged out, got off the hook.
To this day, I have no idea how I got in the middle of that fight.
I also thought it quite strange in 7th grade when one of Vicky’s friends approached me and told me Vicky wanted to be my girlfriend.
Me???
You have to understand. She was the one girl every boy in the entire junior high school thought was a beauty. I most certainly was not the boy of every girl’s dreams. Of any girl’s dreams, for that matter.
So yes, it was incredibly strange that she wanted to be my girlfriend!
But when her friend asked, “Well, will you?” Of course I said yes!
OK, this is equally strange. I never talked with Vicky. Ever. Not before she became “my girlfriend”…not while she was my “girlfriend”…and definitely not after she was no longer “my girlfriend.”
Which came about 24 hours after accepting the invitation. That’s when I found out the beauty queen’s scheme.
Seems Miss Washington Junior High coveted the status of having accumulated the most boyfriends in a school year. There were several one-day boyfriends before me; several more followed. I was just a number in the growing tally of gullible boys.
I really can’t recall much more that would be considered strange that happened to me.
Until about two years ago. COVID year. Yes, a lot of strange stuff happened that year, but not so much personally and directly until the third Sunday of November.
The previous four months had been particularly stressful and painful, having nothing to do with COVID. For a variety of reasons, I was at a terribly low point—discouraged, depressed even, wondering if I could emotionally carry on.
The Sunday before had been very hard, and, while the church family was supportive, I still felt awful. I trudged through the week—prepared like always, but it was tough. As I got up to lead congregational worship on that third Sunday, I was drained and filled with self-doubt—could I really do this? Could I even preach a message that was worthwhile and effective?
Then he came in.
Well after the service began, a gentleman entered the auditorium, wearing a dark suit and tie, carrying a Bible and another book. A black man, he stood out easily in our predominantly Caucasian congregation. I’d never seen him before, and from my vantage point on the platform, I wondered if he were invited by someone? Where was he from? Did he just move in the area? What brought him to our church that Sunday?
I anticipated catching him at the door after the service ended.
He didn’t give me a chance to get there.
I finished preaching the morning message, led the closing hymn, prayed the benediction, and started down the steps from the platform.
By the time I reached the floor, he met me at the front of the auditorium.
He introduced himself by name, said he had in itinerant ministry visiting different churches as the Lord led him. To be honest, I was a bit skeptical. I figured the man was looking for some kind of a handout or perhaps an invitation to speak in our church—for a “love offering,” of course.
But he continued.
“The Lord led me to come to your church today,” he said. “He wanted me to tell you you’re doing a good work here. Keep it up and remain faithful!”
Never in my four decades of ministry has anything like this occurred. And at such a time! My head was a bit swimmy.
Then the stranger offered me a book he’d written. Explained a few things about it, and that was it. He shook my hand, again encouraged me to keep up the good work, and started toward the door. I walked with him to the back of the auditorium, and while greeting a few other people, I watched as he exited the building. As quickly as possible—seconds later—I went to the door to see which way he went, his car and license plate, something to give an idea of where this guy came from.
But he was gone.
I asked a couple of people if they noticed which way he went, if they saw his car? They hadn’t. He got away too quickly, they said.
This, I thought, was most strange.
Then I remembered the book. Surely he left contact information in the book—a brochure or card or something. After all, having an itinerant ministry, he would want to leave some way for me to get in touch with him to invite him to return.
But there was nothing.
Then I did a little more digging. I did a web search on his name. Turned up a few dead people, a guy or two definitely not Christian, and that was it. No evangelist or itinerant minister by that name.
I found the website of his book publisher, which offered a search of their authors. Neither his name nor his book appeared—even though the title page shows a 2020 copyright date through that publisher. (Incidentally, for the fun of it, I re-searched all of this before writing. Still nothing.)
Could it be?
As I drove home, I felt a chill up my spine as I contemplated Hebrews 13:2.
Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some have unwittingly entertained angels.
The writer of those words—writing to New Testament Christians…to us even today—was referring to a few individuals in the Old Testament.
One of those was Abraham. The record is in Genesis 18.
In the heat of the day, in an effort to cool off, Abraham was sitting in the tent door, and when he looked up (was he snoozing a bit in the lazy afternoon warmth?), he saw three men standing nearby. Note: Abraham saw three men. They weren’t wearing glistening white robes…their heads weren’t framed in bright light…they didn’t have wings! They were three men.
This:
Not This:
Immediately Abraham ran to the strangers and invited them to stop in, enjoy some rest and refreshment awhile, before continuing on their way. They obliged him gladly. He provided a nice meal for them, and then they delivered a message from the Lord—Sarah, Abraham’s aged wife, would have a baby. The elderly childless couple would have a baby birthed by Sarah!
The three ordinary-looking men were in reality angels sent to Abraham and Sarah with a message from the Lord.
So, did I have a similar encounter?
I’ll let you decide.
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