I throw the plastic spoons in the cart with the bowls and ice cream. Down at the end of the aisle at WAL-MART Brian walks by.
Only I can't remember his name. I just know he's one of the guys my neighbor Terry invited over a few weeks ago. Terry plays pool with Brian at a bar in Monroe and made friends with Brian and some of his buddies. Terry didn't know Brian until they met on the pool team. Over time, because of their friendship, Terry talked with Brian about Jesus. When he invited Brian over to his house he asked Brenda and I to come, too. We talked and joked around.
Brian lives like I used to live a bunch of years ago before Jesus.
I wonder if he'll remember me or try to ignore me if he sees me. He looks, and I point at him as he walks by. He gives out a "hey man!" and comes over and shakes my hand and we remind each other of our names and make small talk about groceries and cooking out. It's good. We relate.
So maybe now he knows another Christian who seems at least half-way real to him. Because of that, he may be gradually losing a stereotype of a Christian, a stereotype that gives a person an excuse to reject and not listen.
I think that's a big deal. I used to have that stereotype, and I wouldn't listen.
Knowing real Christians did not change my life. But listening to them did.
Even if you're not the one sharing, if you're part of making it possible for someone else to share and be listened to, that counts. It counts as much as digging the hole and loosening the soil before planting a rose.
So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth. -- 1 Corinthians 3.6
Comments