When Calls for Help Come

It seems like the calls always come on a weekend. Saturday evening, Sunday afternoon—when so many of us are gathering for worship, spending time with family or friends or simply resting. I pick up the phone and hear a voice in distress: someone who needs help with rent, shelter for the night, or food for their family. These moments weigh heavy on my heart.

Our church has a small pastor’s discretionary fund, but the truth is, it takes time to get these funds, and they don’t stretch far enough to cover every urgent need—nor should they, because the need is simply too big for any one church or individual to meet alone. That’s why we partner with local missions like Iredell Christian Ministries (ICM) and 5th Street Ministries. We give through these organizations because they are set up to handle emergencies with staff and dedicated resources.

As Christians, we carry a deep conviction that if someone is in trouble, we should do everything we can to help them. Jesus teaches us to love our neighbor, feed the hungry, and care for the least of these. That call to compassion is not optional—it’s central to who we are. But compassion doesn’t always mean we can personally fix every situation. Sometimes, it means connecting people to the right help, praying for them, and trusting God to work through a community of care. It means giving generously but also wisely, so that our help truly helps.

But what makes me saddest is what comes after I hang up the phone. I sit there and wonder: Was their need real? And I’ll be honest: I feel bad that I even think that way. Who am I to question someone’s story or their desperation? I wish we lived in a world where every request for help could simply be met with trust and open hands.

Yet the reality is there will be people who use the systems. There will be people who lie. There will be people who don’t really need help but ask anyway. And that’s what breaks my heart: that we live in a world where these things happen, where the generosity God calls us to show must be tempered with caution.

Just recently, many in the church and beyond received a fake text from someone pretending to be me. It wasn’t me, but it reminded us all how easy it is for scams to sow doubt.

I want to be clear: I will never text, email, or call you to ask for money for myself or to buy gift cards. If you ever receive something like that, please know it isn’t from me.

Even in a world that sometimes makes us suspicious, my prayer is that we remain people of compassion—ready to help when we can, and always willing to point others to the best resources we know. Thank you for being a church that gives faithfully so that when real needs arise, there is hope to be found.  See you Sunday!

Peace, Pastor Tracy

Would you like a suggested scripture passage or prayer to add to this?