We had been praying for him every Sunday for several weeks.
His name was Cresencio, but his family called him Don Chencho. He was the grandfather of a member of our church and lived in the small town of Acámbaro, Guanajuato, Mexico.
Don Chencho had cancer. Every week, his granddaughter would remind me before church, “Please pray for my grandfather.” And so we did.
But Don Chencho just kept getting worse.
One Sunday, his granddaughter pulled me aside. Her eyes were wet. “The doctors say it won’t be long,” she said quietly in Spanish. That morning, we prayed for Don Chencho one last time.
A few days later – Thursday night around 9:30 PM – my phone rang. It was his granddaughter. She was in tears. I braced myself, expecting to hear that Don Chencho had passed away. Instead, she asked me, “Pastor, would you call my grandfather?”
I didn’t know what to say. I had never met him. I didn’t know how the family in Mexico would feel about a gringo pastor from Texas calling out of the blue. But she explained that they lived in a small rancho and had no pastor or priest nearby. The family was distraught.
Don Chencho was restless and afraid.
So at 10 o’clock at night, the gringo pastor from Edna, Texas, called a dying man in Acámbaro, Mexico.
I first spoke with his daughter and shared with her the comfort of God’s Word. I prayed with her. Then she said, “Would you like to speak to my father? He won’t be able to respond, but I’m sure he would appreciate it.”
She held the phone to his ear. The cancer had ravaged his throat.
He couldn’t speak – but I could.
I spoke about God’s great love. I told him how God punished Jesus for our sins so that we could be forgiven. I reminded him of Jesus’ promise: “I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me will live, even though he dies.”
I told him he could trust that promise because God never lies.
Then I said, “Goodbye.” And that was it.
The next day, the granddaughter called me. “Pastor,” she said, “I don’t know what you told him, but last night my grandfather had the most peaceful night he has had in days. Oh, and Pastor” – she added – “before he went to sleep, he told my mom, ‘I can now go in peace. I know I am going to heaven because God has forgiven me.’” The following Sunday evening, my phone rang once more. God had called Don Chencho home to heaven.
Don Chencho was already a Christian when I spoke with him over the phone. He trusted in God, but he hadn’t yet grasped how fully God had forgiven him because of Jesus.
One simple phone call made that difference.
Do you have anyone you could call? Do you have a grandparent, a son or daughter, a friend far from home – someone who doesn’t yet believe or is struggling in their faith? You don’t have to see them face-to-face to share God’s promises or to remind them of the forgiveness we have in Jesus. All it takes is one simple phone call.
Pick up the phone.
Make that call.
One simple phone call can make all the difference.
Pastor Andrew Schroer has been a pastor for over 25 years and is currently serving at Redeemer Lutheran Church in Edna, Texas.
You can find his latest books, “364 Days of Thanksgiving” and “364 Days of Devotion,” on Amazon.com.
