“Practice hospitality, being careful to entertain strangers” (Romans12:13)
There was something special about the church house on our block. After the Verheuls left, another beautiful family moved in to take over and pastor the community church, and it would be the last. Meet the Joneses. When pastor Richard Jones moved in, he brought with him his lovely wife, Alison, and four beautiful children, Richard Jr., Elizabeth, and the set of twins, Ryan and Victoria.
One day, the kids decided to test pastor Jones nerves so badly he had to take them for a walk around the corner. The two oldest were able to walk, but the fraternal twins needed to be contained in the stroller. The twins were kicking and screaming as he strapped them in and took them all for a walk in hopes it would calm them. By the time pastor Jones rounded the corner coming back, the twins were still kicking and hollering just the same. I know he prayed to God his wife would hurry back home to take over.
We formally introduced ourselves, but they hadn’t become part of the ‘family of faith’ on the block just yet. So, I decided I’d bake one of Mama’s homemade sweet potato pies to give to the family for Thanksgiving. I dropped the pie off at pastor Jones house and the next thing you know, he was talking so fast about how good the pie tasted, I thought he was speaking in tongues. I said I’d name them Holy Ghost Pies. We learned a whole lot about the Joneses after that, and they soon became a part of the ‘family of faith’ in our neighborhood.
Pastor Jones loved the pies so much, he forgot to tell me he was not supposed to be eating sweets like that. He forgot all about his diabetes, if he had it. I started making him one for every holiday, including his birthday or whenever I felt the need to slide some into the oven. One day, as I was dropping him off another pie, his wife, Alison said, “Tanya, you know the pastor not supposed to be eating these pies. He is supposed to be watching his diet.” I told her he never mentioned it to me, but I would take it into consideration. So, the transferring of pies stopped. That is, until pastor Jones confronted me about the absence of his sweet potato pies. I informed him he was not having any more sweet potato pies, the wife’s orders. Pastor Jones said, “I’m gone eat me some pie,” and quickly overturned his wife’s decision.
They were a fun-loving family, until the devil showed up and told them they had to pack up and leave without any explanation or consideration as to where they would live. Their daughter, Elizabeth, asked them, “Mama, are we going to be homeless?” Her mother assured her they wouldn’t. Pastor Jones was furious, and from the look on his face he wanted to march down to that church like Dragon Fly Jones and offer them karate lessons for free. And my husband was willing to go right along with him. After praying over the situation, my husband told pastor Jones, it would be greater later. The pastor didn’t want to hear that message at the time. He and his family needed a roof over their heads. They fought to get an extension so they could figure out where they would live.
The pastor found a ministering position in New Jersey. We kept in contact with them over the years and with prayer and interceding, they found a home in New Jersey and settled in. After a few years, pastor Jones wife, Alison, mentioned her parents were getting up in age and she wanted to be closer to them. She asked me to pray that they could all be together, so she could take care of her parents because they couldn’t come back to California at the time. So, we prayed together. A year later, the fires broke out in Alta Dena where their parents lived, burning down their home and community. The Lord answered her prayers. It may not have been how they wanted it, but they are all together. The Lord was with them despite the devil’s plans. He and his wife raised four beautiful children. They are all grown up and all have been accepted to universities to complete the work of the Lord. It surely was greater later.
