PANICKED.
We’re talking sheer terror here. As in, that was how I was feeling as I approached that unforgettable (though admittedly life-changing), sultry summer’s night, so many years ago now.
I was sweating alright. But not because of the heat.
It was opening night of our church’s “Country Store” – an old abandoned shack on the church parking lot that we converted into a nifty little hang-out place – and what was to become a free weekly concert by local Christian bands. All of this with the goal of us sharing our faith with people who might otherwise not come to a Sunday morning worship service, but who just might come to a free concert.
In preparation for the big night, several of us college-age students went through an intensive four-week course to learn how to share our faith. Our strategy for each concert was to introduce ourselves to the young people who came to check out the music. Then, once the concert ended, we were to “witness to” or “share our faith with” or “evangelize” any and every person who showed any interest in hearing more about a relationship with Jesus.
As our team gathered around an old-style, country store-type barrel in the middle of the store and joined hands to pray for God’s blessing on the evening – our very first evening – amidst the noise of the band’s sound check and the words being prayed in our circle, the sweating began. I was petrified.
What if they ask me a question that I cannot answer? I worried. What if I forget the lines of my rote-memorized script, and they end up dying and going to Hell because of my faulty memory? I wondered. What if they get mad hit me? Am I really ready to die for my faith?
In spite of my little freak-out session, little did I know that a whole new exciting world was about to open up to me. I was about to walk through a door after which I would never be the same again.
I'll tell you what I discovered on the other side of that door next time!
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