The Devil Next Door

He was big. He was mean. He was my next door neighbor.

I was going to Bible school at the time ~ discipleship training school to be exact (DTS). I lived with 9 other guys in a 2 story, 4 bedroom house in the Bay Area (San Francisco). We were all learning how to follow Jesus. We were all called to ministry.

And our next door neighbor was the devil. I don’t say that to be mean. I say it because it was the truth. He was 6 foot nine, 300 pounds, rode a Harley and drank a lot. Which again, I don’t say to be mean. After all, when I got saved, one of the things God had to free me from was alcohol.

He used to roar sometimes (my neighbor). He was loud. He was obnoxious. (That’s what drinking does.) He didn’t much like us guys next door.

Then came the news that he had run his motorcycle into the back end of a flatbed truck. I went to the hospital. I remember two women there. (One may have been his mother. I can’t remember.) I wasn’t able to go in to see him. They didn’t think he would make it.

And I guess one of the points here is that, unfortunately, there are some very unhappy endings in life. And yet our Lord would have it turn out differently. (2 Peter 3:9) It’s too late for the devil next door from my past, but it’s not too late for you or for that someone you know who may be walking the same path.

“He who has ears to hear, let him hear.” (Matthew 13:15)