I remember brother J today. Everyone knew him in the church we attended
many years ago. He was an encourager.
If he knew of someone with a need, he wouldn't rest until he met it or
until he got someone who could.
He wasn't a pastor, but most people thought he was. He visited. He
counseled. He prayed for people.
No one could miss church two weeks in a row without having brother J visit
him.
He was one smiling, energetic brother who was always smiling and available.
He didn't seem to have a care in the world.
As busy as he always was in helping people, I never heard him complain
about anyone. I had seen him respond to the most abrasive insults with good
natured jokes and sweet laughter.
I returned from a trip and noticed that brother J wasn't in church. I asked
some of his 'friends' why, and they couldn't give me a definite answer.
One said maybe he had travelled to see his family. Another said maybe he
was busy doing something important. All I got was maybes, and more maybes
from his 'besties.'
I asked some guys who had been helped by brother J, and they couldn't tell
me anything useful. Even those in leadership couldn't tell me anything
important.
During the week, I decided to look for brother J. It took me two days to
find his house. I was terribly shocked. This gracious brother was living in
the most inhospitable condition.
A boy showed me his room, the room he used to live in.
Brother J had died four months earlier.
None of his brethren was aware. Not even those he helped.
This gracious brother had fallen on hard times in the past eighteen months
and had lost so much. This made him to move to this terrible neighborhood
of gangs, living in unsanitary conditions.
He had been asthmatic, but his trials and living conditions seemed to
aggravate his ill health.
Brother J was sick, and was in his room for a week. He died in that room.
The boy that took me to his room told me brother J sent him to one of the
brothers in his church group at the height of his sicknes. That one said he
would tell the others. My investigation revealed that he told a couple of
people and they all agreed to visit him sometime. They never did.
His neighbors took his body to the morgue and did what they could to find
his extended family members.
Brother J had been quietly forgotten by the people he loved.
I cried.
Brethren, don't ever think that the people around you who seem to be very
strong don't need encouragement.
The brethren who neglected brother J were probably good people who took his
strength for granted. You know that smooth presumption that makes you
think, "I know it's too late and daddy should be home by now, but I am sure
he can take care of himself. Let's go to sleep."
They believed brother J was usually fine, and would be fine this time, too.
Encouragers need encouragement. To encourage you, they sometimes have to
ignore their own troubles, which may be much bigger than yours.
You may think they are very rich, but they may have issues in their lives
that money cannot handle.
You may think they are always happy, but they are only smiling for you.
They may be trying to lift you up while they are down.
Those who are strong for others sometimes need someone to be strong for
them.
