Last Saturday was River Raft Race, which is basically a huge party (picture lots of rafts, lots of young adults, and lots of alcohol) floating down the Guadalupe River in New Braunfels, TX. The plan was for a "party bus" to take us to the starting point…
He got on the bus. We made eye contact once. The next thing I knew, we were half way down the river and he was sitting beside me on the raft. Someone brought up that it was my 25th birthday, and then he asked me my most favorite question to be asked these days, "What do you do?" "Well, I work for a mental health clinic in Dallas but only for 2 more weeks. I'm leaving in July to go on an 11 month mission trip through 11 different countries to be the hands & feet of Jesus."
I bet he was not expecting me to say that.
By the time we got off of the raft, I knew that he was raised Catholic, became an atheist in high school, and currently believes in a "higher power." As we headed towards a picnic table to meet up with the rest of our group, he asked me to walk with him. He had a lot of questions. And looking back, I don't remember any of my answers. But I do remember, word for word, the very end of our conversation.
"Why do you care about me so much?"
"Because I love you. And I want you to know love. I want you to experience the love that I experience every day through Jesus Christ. You are so loved."
"How can you love me if you don't know me?"
"We love because He first loved us."
"You really care about me, I can tell."
"Yes, I do."
"I like that. Most people don't care."
There is a 100% chance that I'll never see or talk to him again. It wasn't until Sunday on my way home that I broke down, and with tears streaming down my face I went to God in fear, "What if I didn't say enough? I don't even remember what I said! What if I made You too small?" "You loved."
