I've been sitting on my front porch tonight all of 5 minutes. I'm reading a book by Andrew Murray called, "Abiding in Christ." It's excellent and making my head hurt. I've just sat down with my iced tea, Bible, journal, G2 pens (as I've been taught by John and Josh are the best pens!) and I'm ready for a relaxing time of reading and learning.
However, like I said, I've been sitting here for about 5-10 minutes and already I've been interrupted 2 times by 2 different people walking down the street. Both of them were lost. Both of them needed directions to find a street that is just one block over from my house. Two different lives. Two different stories. These people were so close to their destination and both said they had been walking around for over an hour trying to find their street, all the while its been within their reach the whole time. As I talked to both of them separately, I don't know why (other than Holy Spirit prodding) but I felt sympathy and compassion for both of these women. I knew God was trying to talk to me.
Today I've been focusing on Matthew 11:28-29, "Come to Me, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you, and learn of Me; and you will find rest for your soul." How many people on this planet are wandering around so close to stumbling upon God's love for them but keep moving around missing it the whole time? I think the word "evangelism" has been given a bad rap in Christian-ese language, as if its something that is only for a select gifted few or something that is too scary in our culture. In reality, isn't it simply bringing someone along to the right direction? Helping them stay on the right path leading directly to the love that God has for them?
I'm a coward. Out of fear of rejection, I have missed so many opportunities to plant people's feet in the right direction in Him. How fun would it be if my front porch becomes an altar place where people walking by receive healing, love, encouragement, strength and guidance? When I was little, there was a yellow house across the street from my house that all of the kids in the neighborhood dubbed the "witch's house". An older woman lived there who only glared at us from behind her curtain and who only came out once a week to walk to the grocery store. We were all convince that if we put a toe on her lawn we would become cursed. Sometimes we'd sit on my front porch and imagine what kind of curses she would put on us. Maybe my house could be the complete opposite...the neighborhood kids would know that if they put one toe on my lawn they would be welcomed and loved. It would involve sacrifice. I'd have to change the purpose of my porch from being my place of solitude to being my place of mission. Why should I be afraid of that?