A friend of mine named John Rogers used to teach at the Virginia Episcopal Seminary, and late one cold night he got a call from the bus station in Washington. It was a young man who had grown up in a parish that John had served years before. He once had been an acolyte. His family had been very active in the church. The young man told Rogers that he'd gotten into the drug culture. He had lost touch with his family and was out of work, out of money. Could Rogers, his former rector, give him some help that night?

Acting with compassion, Rogers told the young man to stay right where he was.

Rogers got into his car, drove through the snowy streets, found the lad-- emaciated in body, broken in spirit--and took him home. As the young man ate supper, Rogers tried to get some kind of understanding of his condition. He asked the lad if he had ever asked Jesus Christ to be a help to him in his troubles, and the young man said no. It had been too long since he had even thought about those things. Then he brightened, and said, "You know, when I get myself together and start coming back to church, I am going to ask Christ to help me."

"My friend," Rogers said, "it will never happen that way. If you think that you have to get yourself together on your own and then come to Christ, you will never do it. You're going to have to come to Christ as you are at this moment, and then he will give you the strength to start getting things together."