Jonathan Storment is preaching @ Otter Creek Church Sunday. I can’t wait to hear him encourage us to believe that Jesus throws the best parties. In that spirit . . .

I first met Anne outside a building near Cass Park, in Detroit, called “The Dog Pound.” The building, housing some fifty family units, got its endearing name for two reasons. First, I’m told, the man who owns the building keeps dogs in the basement, so dogs bark and howl at all hours of the night. Second, the residents who live in this low-income building say they feel as if they live in a kennel. The first time I met Anne was in February—the dead of a Michigan winter. I noticed Anne right away because she wore a summer dress with no shoes. In the middle of winter.

Twenty degrees outside. She has no shoes, I thought to myself.

A few of us paid attention to Anne over the next several months—nothing spectacular, just little works of love to let her know she wasvalued. But then, from my experience, transformation usually happens“one phone call, twenty dollar check, home cooked casserole” at a time.On a perfect day in October, while hosting a love feast in Cass Park, my cell phone rang. It was Anne.

“You gonna come get me?”

“What do you mean? Who is this?”

“This is Anne. You got to come get me. I’m in my new house.”

I couldn’t believe it. Anne was no longer living in The Dog Pound. She’d gotten back on her feet, rented a house in a better part of the city, regained custody of her kids. “I want you to come get me and bring me back to Cass Park so I can tell everyone about my new place. I want to have a party.” When I picked Anne up some thirty minutes later, she was as proud as a young child hosting her first lemonade stand, as proud as acollege graduate. Her smile exceeded her physical face.

“See my house,” she said.

“I see your house, Anne. I’m proud of you.”

So we planned to have a party at Anne’s house.

But before we had an opportunity to party in Anne’s new digs, she left us tragically, dying from complications with diabetes.  I’ve taken solace in the notion that Anne was likely going to die, whether or not our lives intersected her life. But for a few moments in time, we were able to help Anne see herself as God sees her: beautiful, beloved, cherished, and welcomed. Our friendship produced life, joy, and, most importantly, hope in the midst of great struggle. This is why I’m so attracted to the Jesus Way. In Jesus’ economy, everyone has a place at the table. Everyone’s invited; we don’t get to check over the guest list for approval.

It’s not our party. The only thing we can boast in is the invitation. We’re all invited.