Yes, indeed! We've got the GREATEST story to tell...

HERE’S what went down that first night. (If you're wondering, "What night?" please read the previous blog entry and you will be up to speed.)

The band did a pretty good job of playing their Jesus-songs. The concert ended. The kids who came just sort of hung out as they bought their sweets and sodas. (All according to plan, so far!)

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a guy sitting sort of by himself on one of the hay bales in front of the mock stage at the far end of the parking lot. I thought to myself, “OK, here goes,” swallowed hard, walked over to him, sat down next to him, looked at him awkwardly, and opened my mouth.

And for the life of me, I could not remember what to say. My mind went blank.

So I hemmed and hawed, stammered and stuttered and stumbled around for a second, when finally I blurted out something brilliant like, “So, what did you think of the concert?” Thing is, that opening line wasn’t it my script. Now what???

Fortunately, my newfound friend helped me out. “They’re a pretty cool band,” he replied. And then he added, “But I thought people only sung about Jesus in hymns and stuff.” What a perfect setup!

Yet, there I sat. Frozen. Not having any idea what to do or say next. Fortunately, the awkward silence was broken when he remarked, “They seemed so…so…I don’t know. So excited about it.”

Without thinking I asked, “Does that surprise you?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “I guess. I mean, I only went to church once – when I was staying with my grandma. And it was so boring. Like no one really wanted to be there. I just thought all this religion stuff was for a bunch of old people.”

Well, from that point on, we were off to the races. Now that we were completely off-script, as far as my personal evangelism training was concerned, I just started talking about what Jesus had done in my life. It was like someone turning on the tap and a waterfall of words spontaneously flowed out of my mouth.

Nothing deep, mind you. Nothing particularly profound. A conversation that lasted not more than ten or fifteen minutes. And all that I can remember of the particulars was what this young man said to me when I paused long enough to breathe. He asked, “Do you think Jesus could do that for me?”

I about fell down dead right off that hay bale. I was so taken aback that I actually started to stutter. “We-ell, ye-yes, of c-course He can. Alls you have to do is to ask Him, like I did.”

“Cool! But, um, what did you ask?”

“I asked Jesus to save me from my sins,” I said. “And I told Him that I wanted a relationship with Him.”

And then I asked him this all-important question: “Is that what you want?”

“I do,” he replied.

So right then and there, we prayed together. I kid you not. Just a simple, sincere, heartfelt, good old fashioned, “God, be merciful to me a sinner!” type of prayer. Only his words were something like, “Jesus, thank you for loving me and saving me.”

He went home that night a child of God. I went home that night – No, I floated home – feeling more excited than anything I had ever experienced before. Like a brave new world opened up to this not-so-brave college kid.