Desperate Evangelist

Have you ever learned something so amazing, or heard news that so radically changes your life forever, that you just HAVE to tell everyone you love? Or gone to a restaurant and ordered something that, when you get it, is so mouthwateringly delicious, so fantastic, you just have to share it, and you are practically trying to force a forkful of whatever it is into your friend’s mouth? But then no one wants to hear the great news, because they would rather talk about what is important to them. The delectable treat you want to share? Refused, oftentimes by pushing your hand away, with the person mumbling, “thanks, but I’ll just take your word for it.” But you stubbornly persist, looking for that perfect opening to interject that wonderful nugget of information into the conversation, waiting for exactly the right moment to slip the tasty morsel onto their tongue.  And you dream of the oohs and aahs and the grateful appreciation and accolades you will receive for not giving up, for being so dogged in your pursuit. Dream on, oh impatient one.  Sharing the gospel and my faith with my non-believing family and friends is a challenge, to put it mildly, only made worse by my lack of finesse. (That’s a nice way of saying I’m rude.) So intent am I on getting MY point across and proving I’m right, I forget all my listening skills and social decorum, and monopolize the conversation, even interrupting others when they try to make their point. Needless to say, I am not very effective. 

Why? Because I forget the basic tenets of sharing Jesus—do everything in love, be kind, pray, and most importantly, let God do the heavy lifting.  I forget I’m planting seeds, not whole trees. Instead of asking what the other person feels (and then actually pausing to hear the answer), I turn into Mrs Buttinski. Throwing all decorum to the winds, I run in like a bull in a china shop, and bash them over the head with my Bible. 

Funny thing is that approach didn’t work with me—in fact it drove a wedge between me and my faith for twenty years; what brought me back was love and understanding and a dose of suffering that knocked me to my knees.  And now that I’ve finally realized I DO need God, that I cannot do anything on my own, I want to share my joy with those I love; it’s  only natural. I love them. I want them to know what I know, to feel what I feel, and most of all I want them to avoid the pitfalls, false steps, and sorrow my stubbornness caused.  And that’s how my pride trips me up: I cannot make a seed grow, I can only plant it and water it in a heart made soft and ready by the Holy Spirit.  All the bashing and blustering and pushing in the world won’t do a thing until that happens.  

Love, kindness, patience, and prayer. Most of all...prayer

"So faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ"

Romans 10:17