Saturday evening, light wash denim kissing the sidewalk, I sit and I wait. Soularium cards arranged in front of me and Ivy and Erin to my right, I pray. God, your will be done. Give me courage. Give me words, not mine, but yours.
You think signing up for ten weeks of missions, I would have been at least a bit ok with the idea of outreach. I’m not. I think it is great; I think it is something as believers we are called to; but I don’t like it. Well, I didn’t like it.
I selfishly thought evangelism was all about my saying the right words. As long as I explained the gospel well enough, whoever I was talking to was going to pray with me and be saved. I would pray for God to come to Santa Cruz, but that’s not it. Because, you see, God is here. God is in Santa Cruz. It’s not about the right words or the right tools, it’s about being willing to be used by Christ.
Evangelism is surrendering all control, all desires, all glory. I will never say the right words to bring someone to Christ. Christ brings people to himself. We just get the honor of being his tools, his disciples, his missionaries.
And you know what’s amazing? When I was sitting on the sidewalk, talking to whoever was sober enough to make coherent sentences and willing enough to stop, God wasn’t just working in them, He was working in me. There’s an incredible thing that happens when we share our faith. God comes beside us and says “Don’t you see. Don’t you understand what I have done in you. I am so good to you. I am so powerfully at work in you even now. Once you were lost, but now you are found. I have given you a new name, a new identity. Now you are mine. Rejoice!”
And so I do. I rejoice in him. As I share what has changed my life, I rejoice in the God who changed it, the God who said “Have faith. Trust in me. Allow me to work.”