One Phone Call | Previous Challenge Entry

how it works

TITLE: One Phone Call | Previous Challenge Entry
By Corinne Smelker
11/11/21
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“Suzy, phone call for you,” Fiona called out from the hallway.
I opened my dorm room door and peeked out. “For me?”
I never got phone calls, least of all on the main phone line for the 30 or so women who shared a building at the university.

Puzzled I picked up the receiver. “Hello?”
“Hi Suzy. It’s Pastor Peter.”

Pastor Peter and his wife, Madelyn, had been my rock over the past few months of uncertainty, upheaval and turmoil as I wrestled with an unexpected pregnancy, schooling and my future. Currently I was working two jobs and attending university full-time, but in a few weeks everything would change with my son’s arrival.

Pleasantries were exchanged and I waited to learn the real reason for his call. “I have great news,” he said. “A person at church approached me and asked about your situation…”

Yeah – my situation.

Pregnant.
Single.
Twenty-two-years old.
In the middle of a master’s programme.
No familial support (‘you made your bed, now you must lie on it, young lady,’ were my father’s last words to me).

And no money beyond the seven-hundred bucks I had managed to save up. If I eked it out it MIGHT last three months taking in the cost of everyday baby items and day care whilst I finished up my education. The reality was I’d have to drop out, find a job and return to fulfill my dream later. I had, at last, mentally reached that place, albeit reluctantly.

All this flashed through my mind and honestly I had tuned Pastor Peter out.

“…so I need your bank details.” He concluded expectantly.

“Sorry. Could you run that by me again? I missed a chunk of what you said.”

“Suzy. Someone at church wants to help support you as you complete your master’s programme. He has seen you at church and knows you’re single. He wants to remain anonymous, but he has prayed, and the Lord told him to give you money each month to pay your baby’s daycare bill, and to cover the cost of the on-site university flat.”

“Who is it?” I asked.
He chuckled,” I can’t tell you. I will say you don’t know him at all. Even I didn’t know him. He attends the church, but isn’t part of any of the same groups you’re in.” Actually not knowing him wasn’t really a surprise. The congregation ran 10,000 people over four weekend services.

After the ejaculations of surprise, and the “I really couldn’t take a stranger’s money,” (fortunately Pastor Peter talked me out of that one), I gave Pastor Peter my banking details.

A week after my son’s birth I opened my bank statement and saw a deposit for the amount Pastor Peter told me this stranger would give. Every month, until I graduated and started working full-time, and for three months after that, until I was on my feet and in my own flat (not the university one), those deposits arrived like clockwork on the first of the month.

I wrote thank you cards each month and handed them off to Pastor Peter, but they inadequately expressed my deep appreciation for a man who saw a need, and filled it.

My life, and that of my son’s, was irrevocably changed by one phone call.

James 1:18 (NLT) Now someone may argue, “Some people have faith; others have good deeds.” But I say, “How can you show me your faith if you don’t have good deeds? I will show you my faith by my good deeds.”

Non-fiction.

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