by Rick Rickman

The tone on my fire department pager sounded the call: "Code 350, call dispatch." I answered and was told to respond to the given address. The dispatcher cautioned, "Shots fired." I checked my map book, determined the location, and I was on my way to who knew what.

As I turned the last corner I could see the location clearly marked by the flashing red and blue lights of the aid vehicles and sheriffs' cars. As I entered the scene and identified myself I could see the blood that covered the walls and carpet. The officer in charge quickly and quietly explained that the wife had committed suicide while the husband was home. She had shot herself in the chest with the husband's handgun. Then the officer directed me to the figure of a man slumped on the living room sofa, his face resting in his open hands, paralyzed with shock and disbelief.

Then it hit me, What do I do now? How do I help this man? What possibly can be said to comfort him and get him through this most terrible time in his life? In those split seconds I began to panic silently. But just as quickly God's presence calmed me. The Holy Spirit moved in and took total control of the situation. I was experiencing answers to prayers that I had poured out while driving to the scene, prayers that had been lifted up in total ignorance of the situation awaiting me. I realized that the words of Matthew 10:19 applied right then. The disciples were told not worry about what to say when they were arrested and taken before the authorities, for the Holy Spirit would speak through them. Though I was not arrested I was in a crisis situation and did not know what to say in that crisis. But the Spirit did! And He spoke in love and comfort and peace.

For the next five hours, before the medical examiner could arrive at the scene, John (the stricken husband) and I sat together with God, while his wife's body lay on the kitchen floor in a pool of blood.

Before becoming a pastor I was a mechanical engineer with a private pilot's license. It just so happened John was a retired mechanical engineer and a private pilot. This "fit" created a situation in which the lines of communication could be opened.

Those were the longest five hours of my life. Had it not been for the involvement of my congregation, I do not know if the events that followed would have occurred. One member was involved in a maintenance franchise. With one call he arranged for the immediate cleanup of the walls and carpet so that the arriving family members would not see the ugly afftermath of their mother's death. Many of our people provided food for the family on the day of the funeral. The Sunday following the funeral, John and all the family filled our small leased building, grieving and weeping uncontrollably. The congregation stood in the back of the room so these visitors could be seated. The loving Body of Christ displayed no sense of being offended by the emotional display of mourning so evident during worship. In fact, many wept with them. In that service John, one his sons, a daughter, and friend gave their lives to Christ. One of our home fellowship groups invited John to participate. He is now a regular attender. John's son turned to our church for premarital counseling, and I performed the wedding ceremony for him and his bride. John has attended regularly ever since, helping out with all sorts of needs.

Last Sunday, John became a member of the church. He learned of Christ, not just through the pastor who was a fire department chaplain, but through an entire congregation. At the time of this writing another home fellowship group is responding to a family touched with the pain of a suicide. A pastor being a chaplain is fine, but a church being a chaplain is a greater display of Christ's love for hurting people.