Tricia Timmons
Having the opportunity to tour with Maranatha’s Chambers choir has taught me many valuable lessons. On tour, you pile onto a bus with forty other students to travel long, cramped hours across the country. When you finish the concert, you sit on the pews and wait for your name to be assigned to a host family. Waiting to hear your name called is one of the most nerve-racking parts of the trip. You have no clue who you’ll be staying with or what kind of house you’ll be staying at. But it’s through these moments you are most stretched.
While on tour in Michigan in 2010, our choir arrived at an unforgettable church. The sanctuary’s yellow lighting revealed orange carpet with a genuine Persian rug at the front. As people arrived, the pews filled with grandparents, farmers, and members from surrounding church communities. My friend Natalie and I casually scanned the crowd and noticed a very odd elderly couple. The man had a thin, grayish beard that hung from his chin to his belly. His smiling wife had no teeth, causing her lips to sink into her face and causing her chin to protrude abnormally. I gasped to Natalie, “I hope they don’t host anyone tonight.” But I had a sinking feeling they would.
The church really enjoyed the concert even requesting an encore. Afterwards, the choir members and host families gathered at the front of the sanctuary. I watched as families approached and as, to my dread, the eccentric couple hobbled forward. I knew it then. I knew I would be stuck with this smelly, old couple with no teeth and weird beards; I’d have to stay the night in a dumpy trailer and sleep in dirty sheets. I am ashamed to admit that these were my thoughts as I listened to the pastor assign singers to families. So I was not surprised to hear my name called to join the elderly couple. Thankfully, I wasn’t going to be alone in my misery: Natalie and two other girls would stay with me. I grumbled to Natalie as we grabbed our duffels, “This is going to be awful. This would happen to me. I knew it.”
I followed the couple to their vehicle expecting a rusty, sputtering, junky jeep. Instead we stopped short in front of a nice SUV. “Hmmm,” I thought to myself, “this was unexpected, but I know their house will be a wreck.” We started home, and the Onaways began chatting with us. Again I was surprised by their friendliness and by Mrs. Onaway’s story. She began, “I don’t know if you girls noticed but I don’t have any teeth.” One girl spoke up, “No, I didn’t.” I almost scoffed, “How could you not notice?” The lady continued, “I found out that I am allergic to gluten, and as a result I have a lot of jaw pain which makes wearing dentures painful. I have really expensive dentures at home, but they just sit unused in the bathroom cabinet.” Twinges of guilt pinched my heart, and I began to wonder if I had misjudged this sweet couple. By now we had reached their home and pulled into their driveway. I braced myself for the dingy trailer that I knew awaited us. But instead a moderately sized home sat at the end of the drive – unbelievable. We walked through the side door into a clean, brightly lit, red accented kitchen. The Onaways led us through a comfortable living room decorated with angels into the library which would act as our bedroom. And most astonishingly – the house was clean.
Once we were settled, the couple told us all about their relatives whose pictures covered an entire wall of their living room. Mr. Onaway excitedly took our picture to remember this night. The couple also shared their testimonies. Mrs. Onaway had previously been in an abusive marriage, and accepted Christ later in life. Now she praised God despite her past and adored her loving husband. The house shouted forth the joy this couple possessed. In fact, their bedroom was completely decorated with smiley faces—the rug, bedding, pillows, curtains, knick-knacks, etc. She explained, “I figure you can’t get depressed in a room full of smiley faces.”
That night, Natalie and I talked in our room, and shared our embarrassment. Because of their unkempt appearances, I had completely misjudged the Onaways. If the Lord had not placed me in their home against my will, I would have missed out on the blessing of knowing this sweet, God-loving couple. The experience taught me that passing judgments means losing opportunities. I also learned that everyone has a story that I need to take the time to listen to. Earlier I had thought “I knew,” but God knew better.
The next day when the sweet, toothless Mrs. Onaway dropped us off at the church, she gave each of us a goodie bag. In addition to the snacks, she gave me a plaque picturing a cross and Psalm 18:24: “This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it.” I now keep this plaque in my room. When I see it, I am reminded to rejoice in all circumstances: Mrs. Onaway rejoiced in the Lord despite her abusive past and current physical pain. I am also reminded to avoid judging people because God loves them as much as He loves me. And they might be really neat people.
