• Beverly Dempsey

Apologetics, Faith and Believers: In No Particular Order


It was an easy ride across the Hudson. A blizzard warning should keep people off of bridges and expressways.


After a quick K-turn in the side street, I backed my car down a ramp to the loading dock of CubeSmart. No one in my side view; no one in my rear-view. I opened the door. Lots of people from the Bronx tell stories about the Bronx, and I was alone.

I removed my gloves and punched a 9-digit code into the keypad. Inside. I fumbled a little with the padlock. It was dark and really cold. I raised the gate on our unit to find floor to ceiling boxes, tables, files – The Stuff of a church in diaspora (topped off with an inch of bird feathers).


I prayed, “God, you’ve got this, right? Because I could die right here in this five-story storage facility in the Bronx.” I used the light of my iPhone to scan The Stuff, “Please let me find our sound equipment, and fast!”


Wait! I texted a picture to the Best Admin on the Planet since Pam. Halleluiah! I cleared an 8’ opening and squatted in front of a tall, technology-filled unit. “Man, this thing has to weigh 150 pounds.” I tried. “No way.”


“Hey” I nodded to a couple of guys who were bringing their own load inside. I clearly need some help, but those guys aren’t coming over.


I walked out of our storage unit, down the loading dock ramp and into the street. A man about my age was double parking a commercial truck. I waved him down. He stared at me. Beverly, really, you could die right here.


“Hey! Excuse me?” (Pause) He rolled down his window. I pointed toward my car at the loading dock and asked, “If I give you 20 bucks, will you help me get something into my car?”Him, “Huh?” Me, "If I give you 20 bucks, will you help me get something into my car?” I showed him a $20 bill. “It’s something we need for my church. I can’t lift it, but you probably can. Will you help?” I took a step back. Beverly, watch yourself!


“Give me a minute.” I thanked him and walked away. He must think I’m nuts.


Then there he was, Verizon vest and all, standing on the dock of the storage facility. “I’m a believer, you know. My wife and I had a miracle this morning,” as he lifted the equipment rack and nodded away my offer to help. “Where’s your church?” I told him as he lowered the surely-150-pound thing into my car. I asked about the miracle. He asked what else I needed in my car. “That’s it,” I said, extending the $20 bill, “Thanks!”


“No. You donate that someplace. My wife and I are blessed. We have a house and just this morning, we were able to pay the mortgage. That was our miracle.”


“Wow,” I was humbled. “Yes, you give that money to someone who needs it. I’ll see you again.” He walked down the stairs of the loading dock.


As I drove through The Bronx toward Manhattan, I smiled at the kids in the crosswalk and stopped mid-street for a lady crossing with a cart.


I Am Blessed! Thank you, God, for introducing me to a life-changing, miracle-receiving believer.



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