Over the weekend, Geoff and I had the privilege of helping out with a discipleship retreat for junior high and high school kids in a town about an hour away. Well, I should rephrase that; Geoff was the speaker for the weekend and I mostly just tagged along. When we arrived at the church where the event was to take place, we spent some time getting to know the college students who would be leading groups of young people in the weekend's activities. Typical questions about majors and schools were asked, but then Geoff asked one student in particular, "What made you choose to major in---?" What followed was nothing less than a brief summary of how this young man came to know and follow Jesus Christ. I was encouraged and my curiosity was piqued. I wanted to know more.
I was in luck (if you'll allow me to use the word).
We were asked if we could give this young man a ride home, since we were from the same place, and on the drive home I got to ask him more about his story. He had been an "angry atheist." Someone invited him to eat free food served by a ministry on his college campus. Someone shared the Gospel with him, and then actually stuck around to help him grow in his faith. He got baptized. He changed his major to ministry and wants to go to seminary so he can help college students like himself know Jesus. And there he was, on this weekend retreat, helping high school kids learn to follow Jesus.
After dropping our new friend off, I told Geoff, "I love hearing stories like that." It thrills me to hear that thousands of years from when He walked the earth, people are still compelled by Jesus. It amazes me to hear how He completely and utterly changes lives. I know these things to be true, but there's something about hearing real-life stories like these that excites me. If I'm honest, sometimes I'm even a little surprised by them. Because it's so easy to pray for his kingdom to come while having so little faith that it actually will. And something else happens when I hear these testimonies. I realize that even though I may not have been doubting my faith, I still find myself saying, "Wow, this really is true." And I am moved to worship. My heart is stirred afresh with affection for the Messiah who still stops people dead in their tracks and says to them, "Follow me," and then affirms to them over and over again, "You are mine."
And I trace the fruit of this changed life all the way back to it's origin. To that person who invited, who shared truth, who gave time, who loved. To that community who embraced. And I pray, "Lord, make me like that. Let me be that person for someone else. Please let the stories continue."
And I wonder, have you shared your story lately? Please tell it to me. I need to hear it. Please tell someone else too. And I'll try to share mine, even though I'm tempted to think sometimes that it pales in comparison to other more "exciting" stories. You might be tempted to think this too. But the reality remains: no matter where you were on the spectrum of God-knowledge when you began to follow Jesus, He saved you. Like the song says, "Jesus sought me when a stranger, wandering from the fold of God. He to rescue me from danger interposed his precious blood." Even if you grew up knowing this to be true, you have a story to share of how it began to become more real to you, maybe even of the struggle to un-learn false perceptions of God or what it really means to seek first his kingdom, versus all the little ideologies and kingdoms of man. You have a story of a person or group of people who helped you, or challenged you, or inspired you. I know I do, "tame" though me story is. So, can we make this little pact together? Can we, together, endeavor to share our stories more freely? I wonder if sharing our stories is part of what Jesus had in mind when He said, "You are the salt of the earth," and "You are the light of the world." Maybe your story of what Jesus has done in your life will act like salt, helping to preserve and shore up the faith of a brother or sister. Maybe your story will be the light that helps to illumine someone's steps--pointing them to this Jesus who still lovingly interrupts lives and says, "Follow Me."
We give thanks to you, O God;
we give thanks, for your name is near.
We recount your wondrous deeds.
Psalm 75:1
(emphasis mine)
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