Alejandro, 31

It was 2 something in the morning. I am alone in the house for a few weeks, and so my pajama attire consisted of a muscle tee and underwear. In the summer heat of Córdoba, even in the middle of the night, it felt like too much, but I could never go for less for emergency reasons. Such as a phone call around this time from a stranger.

At first, I was just going to let it ring (I do after all, hold to the personal mantra of not every phone call nor doorbell must be answered). But, I remembered that some missionary friends were expected to come in any time, I figured I should double check.

The groggy morning voice surfaced, "Hello," I managed.

A male voice responded asking to know who I was. Asking to talk to some one named V--.

I calmly told him that he had the wrong number.

"C'mon bitch, pass the phone," he said insistently.

"Look," I told him. "While I might love to hand it over to this person, I promise you that he or she is not here. My name is Sharayah and you have the wrong number."

"Who!?"

As if pronouncing for a kindergartner, and perhaps thinking this man was drunk, "Sha... ray... ah.." Knowing he would forget my name in the morning.

Perhaps I crossed a line. Perhaps I should have just hung up, but something kept me there whilst no-name tried, to no avail, to say my own correctly.

"But who are you? Are you joking with me? I know I dialed the right number.."

"I'm from the States, and that is why my name is not usual. No, still not joking. You have the wrong house."

And here is the point at which he started to warm up to the idea that I was who I said I was. He tried knowing my age, what I do in Argentina, the neighborhood where I live. To all of these I refused to respond, because one could only guess his motives were impure. So I interrupted him.

"Look," I said. "While you want to know who I am, there's a question I have for you that is more important than all of these details."

"And that is?"

"Do you believe in God?"

I swear I could hear the crickets chirping, even over the noises of the radio in the background on his end of the line.

He finally answered, "Well.. yes. I mean.. Yes. Yes I believe in God."

"And what does that mean for you?" I asked.

"Well yes means ye--"

"No no.. What does it mean to believe in God?"

Another uncomfortable silence, though perhaps more for him than for me. I could sense that I would be getting to my bed soon, and I was grateful.

He finally mustered, "That he exists."

Without hesitation, "Right. And that is not enough in my opinion."

"Wait, what?" no-name said. "What does it mean to believe in God for you?"

Inhale, exhale: "I believe in Jesus Christ. That only through him, through his sacrifice on the cross can we be saved. Through him we have a reason for living; because of his work, I trust him enough to come all the way to Argentina to serve."

The crickets had formed an entire orchestra by this point. And yet, the guy still ended up surprising me.

"You know what?" he says. "I think I did dial the wrong number, but that it was no accident."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that, I really needed to hear what you just said."

A couple seconds later he continues. "Thank you. Sorry for bothering you. Have a good night."

I hung up half expecting for it to ring again for some reason. It didn't, and I calmly made it over to my bed, adjusting the fan to face me at a better angle.

But ten minutes later, the phone did sound again. It was him, calling to apologize for not trusting that I was who I said I was.

"And I just talked with my dad," he tells me. "I told him about your question and how that's really stuck with me. I can't get over it.."

My mind is burning with a question and I can't explain how it got there. I want to ask him, 'Who died?' but before I can--

"You see, I have been falling away from God for quite some time now. Add to this that two months ago, my godfather died, and it just made me question the faith all the more.."

How did that question enter my head?

"I'm sorry to hear that," I tell him. "Truly, it's never easy to know the answers in the middle of painful circumstances."

He continues with his history of growing up in a Catholic church, knowing about the Bible and all that. "I did some things I shouldn't have done," he says.

"Well, I think you're right," I remark. "It wasn't an accident that you dialed the wrong number. I will be praying for you--"

"Alejandro," he says. "My name is Alejandro."

"And mine is still Sharayah."

The necessary laughter to ease any felt tension ensued.

We chatted a little bit more, and I recommended a church in the downtown area as an option. He had asked where I go, which unfortunately is a church that meets in my house, and I was still not willing to trust the guy completely.

"I can't say that it's easy to trust someone who calls a stranger 'bitch' within seconds of the conversation," I said.

He tries to cover up the offense, saying something about thinking it was his niece joking with him.

"All the same," I say. "If I thought it were my nephew, I would never call him a zorro."

Again.. nervous, and yet calming laughter.

----------

A friend of mine, after hearing this story, told me that he had recently had a dream about me. We were talking on Skype and he said that he saw someone behind me that was questionable. "It made me crazy. I didn't know who to call or what to do except wake up and start praying for you."

He told me that the person looked as if it was someone trying to take away my integrity.

What a word to use in this moment. And I doubt my friend, Cristian, realized the impact that word has had on me in my life. I mean, I still carry to this day one of the best compliments someone has ever given me: "It is clear that you are a person of integrity, Sharayah."

Two men of the Bible are given the adjective of integrity: Job and Daniel. When we look at their lives, we see that they were men of prayer and sacrifice. Job would even over-sacrifice if you will, to cover the offenses his children may or may not have caused. Daniel prayed every day, no matter what the law might say against it.

Both men went through some of the worst trials one could face. In fact, both had lost it all--Job lost family and riches, Daniel lost his homeland and lived under foreign rule. Yet, they were men of integrity who leaned on God despite circumstances. They knew that believing in God's goodness over their current depravity was sufficient to help them persevere.

So when someone speaks over you with a weighty word such as integrity, you must look to these two Biblical precedents. It's as strong as having someone named after you--you feel the pressure to set the example as best as you can, even though you know it's impossible.

But I must ask, did the description "integrity" come before or after the lives of Job and Daniel? Kind of like what had happened with Moses, who was called "no ordinary child" in the book of Acts. How did they know, lest they had read the rest of the story?

What I do know is I am ever so thankful for the prayers. Perhaps integrity is something one does not manage on their own, but within the community of faithful believers, who help us see how best to endure a testing of our faith. When I realized I was being prayed for in this aspect of my life, I wanted to be all the more careful with how I act around other men specifically, and to also lean all the more on Christ for my strength.