third thing that ruined me for the ordinary

Alright.  I guess that I will be good to my word, and for the third thing that ruined me for the ordinary,  I’ll tell you about that night in Lyttleton. It’s a long story.  Lengthy - but epic.

If you have no idea what I’m talking about, just read the second thing that ruined me for the ordinary, and then come back here and finish this story.

My friends and I embarked on a week long journey to serve people around New Zealand.  We hitchhiked for hundreds of miles encouraging people, cleaning, leading youth services, cooking dinners, and making new friends.  It was finally two nights before we had to make our way back to our school, and we finally felt like it was time to head to the town of Lyttleton, on the Banks Peninsula.  We had been praying all week about where we should go, and all week long, the places that we thought we were supposed to go didn’t seem to exist.  We would pray and feel like we were supposed to go by all the sailboats - but we were inland.  We would pray and feel like we should be going to the place with the tunnel, by all of the white anchors, to the top of the hill - but whenever we would pray and hear those things, they were never around.  As we made our way into Lyttleton we found the only way to get into the city was to take a mile long tunnel through the mountain.  As the bus emerged to the other side of the tunnel we were met by a bay of sailboats.  We turned left, and as we came around the corner we climbed a huge hill, and on the street was a restaurant that had white anchors leading the pathway to the front door.  

My friends and I stared at each other awestruck.  Everything that we had prayed about all week, all of the places we were supposed to go - everything pointed to Lyttleton.  The three of us had been on the bus with a little old woman, a teenager wearing headphones, and a middle aged man.  At the first stop we got off with the middle aged man, and we headed down the street to a hostel.  We decided to ask if they would let us work at the hostel for the day, in exchange for a bed.  The chances were slim - but why not ask. It turned out there weren’t enough beds available, but the girl at the front desk said there were three churches in town.  It was late, so there was likely no one there - but if we wanted to go check they would probably let us sleep in the church for free.  We took a map, thanking the girl at the front desk, and made our way into the town.

When we walked out of the hostel the man from the bus was at the ATM next door.  He waved to us, and walked the other way.  We made our way to the churches on the map, and knocked persistently on the doors of two of the churches with no answer.  At this point it was getting late, and we had no place to stay.  As we made our way to the third church it started raining, this was our last hope for the night, we prayed trusting that God would provide.

We walked up to the last address, and saw the church sitting on top of a hill with a set of stairs leading to the front door.  As we stood at the base of the stairs the man from the bus walked by yet again.  He waved once more as he passed, quickly turning around and coming back towards us.

“Excuse me, I seem to keep running into you tonight,” he said.

“Yes, we have seen you quite a few times,” the three of us laughed.  We chatted with him a moment explaining why we were in New Zealand, and what we were doing for the week.

“I certainly wish I could help you, but I have a full house tonight...” he responded as he looked at the ground, “But I have a tent! Would you like to borrow my tent?!” He seemed pleased to be able to offer some help.

“That would be great! Is there a place in town we could put the tent up to stay for the night?” We asked, grateful our prayer was being answered.

“Oh. Well... Not really.” He replied looking away.

“Oh. Oh, that’s ok.  You know what, I’m sure we’ll be able to stay at this church here, it’s ok.  Thank you so much for the offer though! Have a good night!”  We waved at the man as we began walking towards the church.  As the man walked away, I turned back around.  “Excuse me, sir?” I asked walked towards him, “What was your name, I’m sorry I didn’t catch it when we first met.”

“Oh, that’s alright, I’m Michael.”

“It’s nice to meet you Michael, thank you again.  Have a good night!”  I turned around to join my friends, and took one look at Geoff’s face knowing something was wrong.  

“You guys. Get up here now, we have to talk!”  Geoff bounded to the top of the stairs, his face white as a ghost, and hands shaking.

“Dude... What’s the deal?” I asked, both concerned and slightly amused.

“Did he just say his name was Michael?” Geoff asked, as Katie and I nodded.  “We were supposed to stay with him.  If that was Michael, we needed to stay with him.”

“What are you talking about?” Katie and I stared at Geoff confused.  

“We were praying this afternoon and I kept thinking we should stay with Michael, I thought I was just thinking that anyway, but I think God was saying to stay with him.  We were in Christchurch and I had met this guy named Michael there last week so I thought I was just making it up  - but I wasn’t! That was Michael!” Geoff was flustered as he explained the story.

“Nice. That’s awesome, thank you so much for mentioning that 2 minutes ago when he was standing RIGHT in front of us! Perfect...” I answered.  There was no grace in my answer. I was simply mad he hadn’t said anything.  “Ok. Fine. You know what, let’s just pray about it.  We can’t really do anything now, but if God really wanted us to stay with him, He’ll figure it out.  So... Alright, Jesus... If we’re supposed to stay with Michael just - bring him back here.” I prayed, trying hard not to sound frustrated.

Just as I prayed we heard a sound to our right.  We looked up and saw Michael standing a hundred yards away staring at us.  The three of us stood there, completely taken aback once again.  How did he even get there?  We were standing right at the top of the stairs, and he had never come up behind us. But there he was, standing along the tree line in the dark.

“Do you still need a place to stay?” he asked us.  We nodded yes, silently.  “Follow me. You can stay at my house.” he said, and walked away.  We looked at each other confused, trying to figure out what to do.

“Didn’t he say that....”

“Yeah. He said his house was full.  I don’t know. Come on, let’s go.”  We ran to catch up with Michael, seeing that he lived just next door.  We walked into a silent house, as he explained his wife and child were sleeping, and offered us some food.  We sat and ate explaining how we had come to be there, what we were wanting to do, and asking how we could help him.  What could we do to serve him, or his wife?  

He literally had almost no reaction.  There was no emotion, no expression on his face. He never even sat down with us, just stood awkwardly by the door listening as we talked to him.  

“You can do the dishes for my wife,” he motioned towards the overflowing sink.

“Sure. Yes, absolutely, we can do that,” we answered, feeling uneasy.  After eating we walked into the living room as Michael showed us where we could sleep. 

“If you want to take a shower, you’re going to have to shower tonight. We don’t have hot water during the day here.  There’s not hot water, so you’ll have to shower now, do you want to shower?”  We didn’t answer right away, confused because we were only 40 minutes from where we had been living for four months.  We were 15 minutes outside of the biggest city on the island - and everyone had hot water all the time.  Living in New Zealand was like living in any other first world nation.  You didn’t have to worry about things like having hot water.

“We’re fine...” we answered. As we started washing dishes. Michael seemed nervous, and agitated, pacing around and not looking at us when he talked.  It was a strange and uncomfortable atmosphere.   Geoff asked if there was anything we could be praying for him about.  He became suddenly calm stopping, and simply answered, “No. I mean. I figured you would be doing that anyway,” and he walked away.

After finishing the dishes we sat in the living room and heard Michael from the kitchen again, “Are you sure you don’t want to shower? There won’t be hot water in the morning, so you should really shower now.” 

We looked at each other, uneasy.  “Do you guys want to stay here?” All of us shook our heads no at the same time. Michael came walking down the hallway and stopped in the doorway of the living room.  At this point the rain was really coming down outside and it was kind of windy.  The whole house was quiet.  

“I thought of something you could pray for,” he said as he looked past us, out the front window.

“Sure, yes, anything,” we answered, waiting expectantly.

“I know this man...” he spoke quietly, still looking out the window behind us, “He killed someone once, and he just can’t seem to forgive himself for it.” Our eyes widened, as the blood drained from our faces. “He’s not the kind of man you would want to meet on a rainy night in Lyttleton,” he said with a small smile on his face.  It was silent, the sound of the rain beating on the tin roof became haunting. “Everyone thinks he’s a monster, but really... He’s like a scared child inside.”  Michael never made eye contact, just stared out the window as he talked.  “Hey! Have you ever seen the last Lord of the Rings movie?” He asked, finally looking at us.  We nodded our heads yes.  “You know the part where they're waiting for the battle to begin, and you can hear the rain beating off of their armor?" He asked, the sound of the rain on the tin roof seemingly louder now, "Sends chills down your spine, doesn’t it?” He asked, laughing as he walked back down the hallway.

“Get your bags, we’re leaving!” Geoff said, all of us panicked.

“Michael, you know... We kind of feel like maybe we did what we needed to do here, and we’re going to go. Thank you so much for dinner, and for offering your home! We’ll be praying for your friend. And for you.”  We made our way to the door, Michael following us.

“If you guys leave, you can’t come back.  This is it. Once the door closes, you can’t come back in.”  We assured him we understood, thanking him again, and as soon as the front door closed behind us, we ran. We ran fast, and we ran far.  We made our way back into Christchurch that night, sleeping on the sidewalk in front of a Salvation Army for a few hours before going back to our home a day early the next morning. 

Maybe Michael was talking about someone he knew, maybe Michael was talking about himself.  We’ll never know for sure.  That’s the closest I ever want to come to finding out.  

But it’s things like this that make me realize - my life isn’t ordinary. And I love it.