We'd Let Him in, Wouldn't We? by Jim McGuiggan

    It was July 11, 1971 — a very good year. In Northern Ireland, that week of July means flute bands; processions of marchers thousands strong; Union Jack flags; curbstones painted red, white, and blue; streets decorated with mock city walls, streamers, and wall paintings; dancing in the streets; and bonfires at every other intersection. And there was booze — yes, plenty of booze — and pubs packed to the doors. This was the time when the Protestant/Unionists celebrate an ancient victory over the Nationalist/Catholic forces.

    One of the thousands of marchers in the “Orange Order” was Johnny Martin, who each year carried the symbolic saber as he marched triumphantly to the Field where the multitude, weary with the march, would be glad to sit and listen to a series of speakers calling them to maintain the Union (with Britain). Johnny was a painter by trade and a hard drinker by habit. I met Johnny when his wife, Peggy, was very ill with a cancer, which would brutally and swiftly rob her of life at the age of thirty-eight, forcing her to leave behind a daughter, Ethel, and two sons, Jackie and Roy. Later Johnny would remarry, and he and his devoted wife, Helen, would have a boy, Paul.

    When Ethel and her daughter, Linda, went to see the bonfire one 1lth of July, Johnny had already been drunk and sober several times that day. Up the street he came, well into another binge, extra whiskey in his pockets and plenty of time to get it down. He tried to cuddle his six-year-old granddaughter, Linda, but she began to cry big tears and to tell him she didn’t like the way he smelled. That broke his heart, and then and there he swore to her that he would never drink again. That very night he gave his life to Christ, the booze was dumped, and Johnny Martin hasn’t had a drop in over twenty years.

    Marvelous! This kind of turnaround is by no means rare, but it’s remarkable just the same.

    It’s funny how many things God uses in his attempts to turn us around. Even the things God doesn’t actively bring our way (things like the birth of a baby suffering from spina bifida) can be used to touch our hearts. A tragic event, a lovely book, a splendid movie, the patience of a spouse, the suffering of innocent children, a close brush with death, the loyalty of a friend, the strength and gentleness of a physically big man. Six-year-old Linda’s tears tugged on Johnny Martin’s heartstrings.

    A story is told of a man who took his little girl to an art gallery She showed no interest at all until they came to a picture of a tired looking man, knocking and knocking on a door. The picture showed people on the other side of the door — it looked as if they had no plans to open it. She was hooked.

    “Who is that?” she asked her dad. How could she know the question would trouble his heart—a heart that was wrestling with deep questions.

“Won’t they let him in?”

    “It’s Jesus,” he heard himself say with a slight edge to his voice.

    A pause, and then: “Won’t they let him in?”

    Unease began to grow in the man, but he could hardly brush her off, so he quietly said: “No they won’t let him in.”

    Quick as light, she asked: “Is he bad?”

    And he shot back just as fast: “No! He isn’t bad.”

    Faster still, she demanded: “Well, then, why won’t they let him in?”

    Now he was really uneasy He’d had enough, and as he gently but firmly walked her away from the picture, he heard himself say in a tone too terse: “How do I know?” She sensed the tension and said no more, but every now and then, big, dark, round eyes glanced at him and then in the direction of the portrait. She knew he knew some-thing he wasn’t telling her.

    At supper no word was said about it, but the eyes kept talking. After supper she got ready for bed, and with pajamas on and with toothpaste still around her mouth, she climbed up on his lap and hugged his neck longer than usual. Then she kissed him, headed for the bedroom, stopped, turned, and said: “We’d let him in, wouldn’t we?”

    Then off she went to sleep like a rock, while all through a grown man’s sleepless night God pried his heart open with a child’s words.

    I’m told that just like my father-in-law, Johnny Martin, the man “let him in.”

Adapted from Jesus: Hero of Thy Soul by Jim McGuiggan (1998, Howard Publishing Company).

HEARTLIGHT^® Magazine is a ministry of loving Christians and the Westover Hills church of Christ.
HEARTLIGHT and the flared heart design are service marks of Heartlight, Inc.
Copyright © 1996-99, Heartlight, Inc., 8332 Mesa Drive, Austin, TX 78759.
Edited by Phil Ware and Paul Lee.
Adapted from “Jesus: Hero of Thy Soul” by Jim McGuiggan (1998, Howard Publishing Company). Used by permission.
Design copyright © 1999, Heartlight, Inc., 8332 Mesa Drive, Austin, TX 78759.
May be reprinted and reused for non-commercial purposes only if copyright credits are appropriately displayed.