Guest Author: Liz Holt
Many believers have “shake up, wake up stories,” marking their discipleship journeys. God allows surprising circumstances to come their way to shake and wake them because He is going to do a new work in their lives. The new work will require their full attention. I am about to tell you one of mine.
It was February 14, 1981. I was nineteen years old, attending my sophomore year at UCLA. I had recently made a commitment to Christ six weeks prior to the “shake up, wake up” story I am about to tell. It was on New Year’s Eve in 1980, in my bedroom on my knees, that I spoke these specific words to a God I barely knew, “Lord, I don’t want to have any more plans for my life. I only want Yours.” Apparently, this mighty God, who I was now dying to know (pun intended), heard my cry and took me seriously.
First, a little backstory to this “shake up, wake up” story. I grew up in an unchurched and biblically unversed family in an upper-middle-class suburb of San Francisco. People around me spoke about the poor and the homeless quite a bit. I had driven through nearby Oakland, one of the poorest cities in the nation, plenty of times. I had seen street people firsthand from my car window, who were high on drugs and low on money, education, and purpose.
They scared me. They were dressed in rags, aimlessly wandering the inner-city streets, looking for trouble. The attitude of most affluent grown-ups around me was, “Poor them,” and perhaps a willingness to donate money to ease their plight. Little did I know that on the first Valentine’s Day after my conversion, God was about to plop me into the middle of some “shake up, wake up” hours with some homeless, street people on the notorious day of love, Valentine’s Day!
One of my apartment mates at UCLA knew two seasoned, sincere, sold-out missionary types who were attending the no-longer-in-existence L.A. Baptist College, which was located an hour and a half from UCLA. These advanced believers–for lack of better words, (let’s also refer to them as W&P) had pioneered a men’s discipleship house, had planted a growing house church near their campus, and would talk about “foreign subjects” to my ears, such as reaching the lost, street evangelism, tent making, praying for and being willing to go to the 10/40 window. Say, WHAT?!?!
They loved and knew the Bible inside and out and had a plethora of new miracle stories to share about what God was doing in and through their lives. They were only in their early twenties! They were equally impressive and intimidating to a novice Christian, like me.
On this Valentine’s night, W&P and three of us girls from our apartment were going to hang out together. W&P suggested we go witnessing on the Santa Monica Pier. Us girls naively, enthusiastically, said “yes” to this adventure. Why not? The two missionary experts were going to lead the way. Everything would go smoothly.
Our little evangelistic group prayed and then started up many spiritual conversations with tourists and visitors on the well-lit pier. It was invigorating, as most people we approached were open to talking with us about spiritual subjects.
Then, W&P wanted to go see who needed to hear about Jesus underneath the pier. I can still hear, in my mind, the sound of crashing waves as we fearlessly approached two male figures, hovering under in the darkness. W&P started sharing about a big-hearted God with these poor wayfarin’ strangers, named Kevin and Larry. We found out in time that they were homeless, on drugs, but ready to commit their lives to Jesus. Our two new acquaintances decided to pray a prayer to give their lives to Christ. Amazing!
As it was getting late, I remember thinking that we had accomplished our mission, and we had better head home now. But W&P found out Kevin and Larry were hungry and had no money. Before we knew it, we were all sitting at a McDonalds, watching them gobble down burgers and fries.
The clock was ticking toward midnight. I thought, we had really better get going. To my utter shock, W&P confidently said, as if they had said it many times before, “We can’t leave our new brothers in Christ here with no roof over their heads and nowhere to go.” I became uneasy with how the evening events were unfolding.
W&P decided then and there that they were going to take in Kevin and Larry at their discipleship house to help them stabilize and mature in Christ, however long that took. I was aghast. I could not believe their detailed plans to resolve Kevin and Larry’s plight. I did not know people like W&P existed. Again, they made me feel simultaneously inspired and uncomfortable.
Then, the real shocker spilled out from W&P. They announced that it was too late to drive an hour and a half that night to their discipleship house with Kevin and Larry. They asked if it would be ok with us girls for them to camp out in our Westwood apartment living room until the four of them would head out to the discipleship home early the next morning. Say, WHAT?!?!
A plan was contrived that us girls would lock ourselves in our bedrooms so that we could safely sleep the few hours that were left before sunrise. (Yeah, right! Who was going to be able to sleep? NOT ME!) It was also decided that, at this late hour, we would recruit even more guys from a UCLA Christian fraternity to come over and stand guard over the homeless men and us. (Yeah, right! What crazy people were going to say “yes” to this strange call of duty after midnight?) To my surprise, the fraternity guys answered with, “Yes.”
As this story progressed, the girl from the suburbs (me) was catching on to how dangerous this all was. I kept thinking that if my mom and dad knew about all the “yeses” I said that evening, they would probably “kill me.” Now that could have been the REAL danger. Haha!
While safely locked in my room, away from the homeless visitors and their guards, I began to contemplate the unpredictable craziness that had transpired in the last few hours. All of a sudden, a bright moon shone into my eyes from the window. It was a full moon. I became aware of God’s presence. I felt like He was sending moon rays into my room, into my eyes, to communicate, to get my attention. He was watching me. It was surprisingly comforting. I felt like He was proud of me and our little group for saying, “yes” over and over that memorable evening. Instead of being scared, I felt thankful that I was chosen to be a part of this Valentine’s story, as crazy as it was. I was being introduced to the supernatural idea of how we can love the seemingly unlovable with His help in a way that was more than throwing a little money at their problems.
As I share this “shake up, wake up” story with you, please know that I am not advocating for or suggesting that any of us should haphazardly take in homeless strangers. That could be extremely harmful. However, what I am advocating for and suggesting by telling this story, is that we team up with blood-stained allies, seek the Lord, and say “yes” to God’s good works, whatever they are.
Through phone calls with W&P, over the days, weeks, months, and three years, we were updated on what happened with Kevin and Larry. Kevin made a choice to run away from the discipleship house immediately. He wanted to pursue his old life of drugs instead of a new life in Jesus. Larry, on the other hand, immediately decided to grow as a believer. He committed himself to meeting with W&P for mentoring. He began to study God’s Word, became employed, and gradually became a leader at W&P’s house church. The choices of yes and no made all the difference.
After I graduated from college, I heard that Larry had married someone wonderful and had a child. He and his wife had grown to be pillars of faith.
I never saw Larry again. I barely ever saw W&P again. But I will never forget the life-changing Valentine’s Day we all shared together in 1981.
The Valentine’s God showed up in all kinds of ways that night to communicate His love. He got my attention. And Romans 5:8 will sum up the human, “shake up, wake up” God story: “But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”
-Liz Holt
