A man passes a young woman on a mountain side. He wears a red mark on his forehead indicating that he worshiped a Hindu god that day. They both smile at each other, place their hands together and exchange the greeting of “Namaste”- something he's probably done his whole life but she delights in, having only learned it a few days before.
As he walks away, she remembers the small blue tracts in her pockets and fumbles to retrieve one before he gets too far away. Pulling one out, she pursues him, stumbling down the steep and crumbling stairs that seem more than a little out of place in her mind. “Sir!” she yells. He slows a little and glances back. “I have something for you!” Catching up with him, she thrusts forward the small, insignificant looking piece of paper that holds the purpose of her existence within its pages.
Studying it for a moment, he mutters a name- more to himself than to her, “Jesus Christ.”
“Yes,” she beams, loving the name of her Savior on his lips. “I can't read it, but I know what it's about. I hope you'll read it.”
He studies her face but says nothing.
“Will you read it?” she asks.
He turns his gaze back towards the paper and studies it for a long moment. Finally he responds with a non-committal, “I don't know.”
“Well… I hope you do.”
They exchange a few more words before they part ways.
Heading back up the mountain, she thinks about their exchange and can't help but be encouraged… He's got his own religion, but now he has mine in his pocket.
Before the race, evangelism ranked pretty high on my very, very long list of things that just weren't “my thing”. I was uncomfortable approaching random strangers, I was uncomfortable “forcing” my faith on others, and I didn't like it when people asked me questions I didn't have the answers to. I can't even explain how strange it feels to read this story knowing that the young woman is me. It feels even more strange knowing that it is something I genuinely want to continue after the race is over.
Our host here in Nepal is named Megh and he came to know Jesus through a tract. Before he was saved, he carried the tract in his pocket for a year and took it out whenever he was upset or confused. Finally, he asked a friend to explain it to him and afterward, he accepted Christ as his savior. Up until a few months ago, I had written street evangelism off as something pointless or ineffective but lately I've seen it in a whole new light. Sure, if we expect to see immediate results from a 5 minute interaction, we'll probably be disappointed but if we take the pressure off ourselves and leave it up to God, we'll never be disappointed. It's time we stopped worrying about comfort and results and started worrying about souls.
