THE PULSE THE WAY I SEE IT DON’T COME TO CHICAGO By Georgia Lyons T
here are already too many people. Thousands of people are wrestling to occupy the same space. A one mile zip to the grocery store becomes a half- hour obstacle course dodging the many cyclists, buses, pedestrians, trucks, construction signs and potholes. Getting from point A to point B taxes the mind, heart and soul. “All I wanted was a gallon of milk!” So don’t come here. Parking is scarce. You’ll have to drive around and around the block or parking lot just to get near the cash station. But when you get to the only spot open, you’ll have to feed the parking meter 31cents for 8 minutes (53 cents downtown!) Who needs it? You do not want to come here. If I haven’t talked you out of it yet, let me share some of our family’s experiences while living here: comput- ers, purses, wallets, hub caps, radios, bikes, laundry on the clothesline, rugs on the railing, plants and their planter boxes, jewelry, one new car and a transmission, all stolen.
No. It’s not safe. Breaking glass in the middle of the night as someone tries to climb into our living room. Bullets fl ying and landing on our front porch. Police checking our bushes for weapons. Blue lights refl ecting on our bedroom shades. Sirens screaming. Car alarms blaring. Car speakers blasting.
No. You wouldn’t like it here…unless…unless, maybe you need someone to witness to. If your heart aches to tell someone about Jesus, this is the place! I’m on the “L” (train) headed downtown on a care-free shopping spree with my sister. They look like those gang-banger-type thugs that would grab a girl’s purse
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and run. We hand them a gospel tract. They tell us they’re brothers and that they need God to comfort their mother because their other brother has just been murdered. We put our hands on their shoulders and pray for them. The city’s feeling a little less threaten- ing, now.
The next night I notice a man standing in the dark alley watching me. I say “Hi.” He says, “What’s the Good Word?” He knows my schedule. He knows I just came from church. I tell Him, “The Good Word is that Jesus loves you.” He tells me a little of his story. He’s a refugee from Rwanda. It’s the fi rst of several conversations with him about the Lord. In one afternoon of running errands, I speak a word of witness to someone from Palestine, India, Israel and Poland. I went into all the world without a passport or an airline ticket. I think the city is starting to grow on me.
I see a man standing alone. Armed with my favorite tract, I approach him and say, “Here, you look like you could use something to read.” He looks it over and shakes his head. “Polski. No Angielski.” Great. He’s Polish. Lord, I thought you told me, Book-of-Acts fashion, to go and give that man a tract. “Wait, wait!” I run back to my car. “This is useless. I don’t have a Polish tract!” There’s one more tract in the recesses of my purse. It’s Polish! I run back to him, “Polski! Polski!” We’re both laughing and smiling. I realize this city needs me. It needs you, too. So, please... come to Chicago. It’s a great place to serve!
Georgia Lyons is the wife of Charles Lyons, pastor of Armitage Baptist Church in Chicago, Illinois.
Compiled by Adam Miller Ideas, insights, inspiration for you and your church
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