We have to Believe it

It's much easier to spread the Love when we believe it ourselves.

I still think of and pray often for my friend Hank. I've been thinking a lot about how this evangelism thing is easier than we think.

Today I walked home through City Hall (like every day) and stopped to chat with three people I saw drinking along the side of a building. We talked about many things. I told them about Africa, they told me about street life, and for some reason, the conversation always steers towards God. Two are believers, one isn't. I talked to them about cleaning up and about how much God loves us. I think I even used the example that God loved that woman just as much as he loved Obama, the way they are right now. They desperately wanted me to pray for them and so I did. We talked about church after and two of them plan to show up Sunday morning. I hope they do! I told them I'd treat them to lunch after. We'll see what happens, but I'll pray earnestly for their arrival.

We must believe what we say. If there is no truth in our words, there is no light in our words. And it's the light that casts away darkness. The Spirit can't use idle words. Our words are only transformational if we speak them boldly and we honestly believe them!

And evangelism isn't about "saving souls", like it's some kind of rat race. It's about allowing people to experience the life Christ intended for us! Life in communion with Him. It's full of love, joy, peace, and hope. One thing our world is missing right now is HOPE. We talk about oil spills, drug lords in Jamaica, Aids in Africa, outrageous numbers of suicides on reserves, and there seems to be no point. Our world is a disaster. We need to hope.

It's funny. One of the men I met really wants to help support me in Africa. He wants to find me on Monday to give me $50 when he gets his cheque and even in the summer, he wants to raise money at a Pow Wow for me. He wanted to know how to get a hold of me by that time and I really didn't have an answer for him so the best we could come up with is sending a smoke signal.

Half of what is mine is yours

Today I went for lunch at BPs. I had the most delicious buffalo chicken sandwich. I never steer away from it and try anything else, it's just too good. It's a very large sandwich and I usually eat the whole thing. I just can't stop eating it. But afterwards I hurt and immediately regret my impulsive decision. Today I ate only half of it and boxed the other half.

Today I also met Hank. Well Hank is his street name he says. His real name is Henry. I met him walking home from school. He stopped me and asked for a quarter. I did my usual, "Sorry I have no money" but we continued to talk. He told me he's a lone ranger, originally from Battleford. Between his slurred speech and drooling he also told me he's 57 and I also heard the word "hungry" somewhere in there. Perfect, I thought! I have half a sandwich. I gave it to him and he seemed excited. But he told me not to worry about him because he's a survivor. He went to a Residential School, been through two divorces and travelled all over alone. When I asked if he had kids he immediately broke down and cried, telling me he had a son but the police found him frozen just outside of Saskatoon ten years ago. My heart sank. I asked him if I could pray for him and he tried to brush me off, saying he was fine. But he never left. He then let me pray for him and in the middle of the School Division parking lot, as people walked past, I prayed for him. We kissed and hugged and talked some more and said good-bye a hundred times but never seemed to be able to leave.

Half of what is mine is yours.

John was speaking to a crowd, and after he called them all vipers, they asked, "What should we do then?" John answered, "The man with two tunics should share with him who has none, and the one who has food should do the same." (Luke 3:11)

People interpret this many ways. But I say, if you have a whole buffalo chicken sandwich, half of it doesn't belong to you.