In the fall of 2004, my oldest son, Marc, called me. “Dad,” he said, “you wanted me to give you a call if I ever thought CJ was in danger and needed your help.”

“Yeah,” I said. “What’s going on?”

“Well, CJ is screwing up big-time. He’s got the wrong people mad at him and they are going to kill him,” Marc explained. “And if that doesn’t happen, he’ll end up killing himself.”

Soon after our conversation I was headed to Moses Lake, WA, to rescue my second son from the hell hole in which he was living. CJ was addicted to methamphetamines.

We arrived home just in time for Thanksgiving. That weekend my son-in-law, JD, and I confronted CJ with his addiction and the path of destruction he was on. We wanted him to get the help he needed.

I would like to say it all changed overnight; but it didn’t. It was a long, hard year. Our family was put to one of the greatest tests we had ever faced. But after a year of hell, CJ resurfaced — drug-free and healthy.

I am a Free Methodist pastor, and about that same time, our bishops asked us to preach on the topic of “One More Soul.” In a sermon I prepared for that series, a phrase stuck with me: “We have to learn how to open new doors to Jesus.”

The text was the New Testament story where four men were having trouble getting their sick friend to Jesus because the healthy people were in the way. God laid it on my heart to discover new ways to reach those who were having trouble getting to Jesus, and I asked CJ how the church could reach the world he had just come out of.

“Dad, there isn’t a door anywhere into the church that any of my old friends would walk through,” he said. “You are going to have to go to them in ways that your congregation won’t understand. If you want them to listen to what you have to say, you are going to have to win their trust as if you were one of them.”

My thought immediately went to that passage where Paul indicated he would become all things to all people if indeed some were saved. That was the door CJ was saying didn’t exist — becoming all things to all people in order to share the good news with them.

I really didn’t know where to begin, so I went to my prayer team. We prayed every Wednesday night at a funeral home. I asked the team to pray that I would be able to connect with local business owners in ways that would allow them to trust me. I prayed especially for the chance to do that with Angel, the next-door tattoo parlor owner. After six months, God answered our prayers.

My oldest son and I were discussing our personal convictions. He had just gotten a tattoo on his forearm. I told him I had no convictions about tattoos. “Then why don’t you get one?” he responded. “I will pay for it!”

My first thought was, “Because I don’t want one.” (I was sure I would pass out from the pain.) My second thought was, “But I have been praying for a chance to meet Angel.”

So Marc and I went to Angel’s shop and I got a tattoo.

That was a divine appointment — God wanted to have a conversation with Angel. I was merely the vessel He would use. You see, God had already been working to set this up.

The local newspaper recently ran a full-page story about Angel and his tattoo parlor. As I read the article, I learned that Angel had moved to the area to help his elderly, ailing mother; he loved his wife and his two children; and he thoroughly enjoyed his work. Angel considered himself an artist who had a gift that could bless others. I learned how grateful he was that he had something to give.

As he tatted my arm, I told Angel I was impressed with him as a human being. His defenses were down. I was not judging or condemning. I was on his turf and I was asking for his help. That opened the door to an awesome conversation.

“I don’t go to church. Most of the Christians in this town judge me without even knowing me, especially the pastors,” he confided. “I probably will never go to church, but if I ever decide to try a church, I would walk across the tracks to yours because you are not like any pastor I have ever met.”

As I pondered what Angel said, I thought, “Wow. I wasn’t able to get him through the doors of our church, but I opened a new door to get him to Jesus.”

And through me, Jesus had been able to show him a glimpse of His unconditional love.