I remember setting in the church office working on a sermon when I heard something in the sanctuary. As I got out there I saw a ragged young man stepping out the door. I caught up with him and asked if I could help him. He was crying and proceeded to tell me who he was and that he felt something call him to this place and he was afraid.
It turned out that he was one of the biggest drug dealers in the area and he wanted help to get cleaned up and change his life. A few years earlier he was a member of a church in Raleigh with a wife and a new baby, and then he got hooked on drugs.
Over the previous two years, as the drugs took over, he lost his home, his wife and child and everything he’d worked for. And then the drugs became his master. He was a slave to his habit. He now sold the drugs he craved to support his habit.
I asked if he knew Jesus and he told me that he lost sight of Him long ago. At this point I was at a loss as to how to handle the situation, so I began to pray. He talked, I listened and prayed and then the words came. With more eloquence than I had in me the words flowed.
Before long this young man had rededicated his life to Christ and allowed me to help him get into a rehab clinic. Once he was dropped off and checked in, we prayed once more and I left him in God’s hands.
Two weeks past when I got a collect call
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