Teachable Moments. Redemptive Failures.

As we get closer to winter, it’s increasingly difficult to find areas around town where people are milling about comfortable seeing their breath out in front of them and sticking around for conversation. But last Friday it was almost 80 degrees and we really need to take advantage of the outside time we have left. So, last night Andrew and I did some “soul-winning” starting at Gray’s Lake and then moving to The District area of Ankeny.

Gray’s Lake

I have to confess, I haven’t been to Gray’s Lake to share the gospel since my mentor, Tony, and I went while he was still mobile and able to walk beside me. It’s been a long time, and it felt both strange and comforting to be back—strange because so much has changed since those days with him, and comforting because the memories of our conversations, prayers, and the way he encouraged me came flooding back. Being there again reminded me of how God used those simple walks with Tony to shape my faith, and it stirred in me a renewed desire to keep stepping out in obedience, even when it feels unfamiliar without him at my side.

As we approached the bridge, Andrew shared some of the struggles of getting into conversations and engaging with people. We stopped walking just after the entrance and I I asked him to use his senses and tell me what he sees and hears, and how he could relate to someone in the shared space to strike up a conversation. We discussed several things:

• The autumn leaves fall, reflecting the ongoing cycle of life.
• The lake and sounds of life like frogs, ducks quacking, and fish jumping.
• The city background and the thought of how many who may not know the gospel.
• The bridge was lined with hundreds, if not thousands, of plaques, each inscribed with a name beneath the words “In Memory of…”. Wondering where they might be in the scope of eternity.
• Flowers placed on the bridge by loved ones, set beneath plaques honoring those who have died.

We can joyfully use the things around us to start meaningful conversations, even when we don’t have a tract to help begin sharing the gospel. Paying attention with all our senses—seeing and hearing what’s happening in the space we share with others—gives us wonderful opportunities to engage and naturally open doors for the good news.

Our one and only conversation was with a very lean and fit gentleman named Josh, who was walking the path with his son. I handed him a kids “million-dollar bill” and he took it reluctantly and read it before giving it to his son, which I am always thankful they do. You would be surprised that most parents just give the tracts we hand out to their kids without reading it first.

He told us he hadn’t been to church in a long time since he was a kid and had really given up on the whole idea of a Creator making everything we see. Sensing an opportunity, even in our short time together while he wanted to get back to his walk, I cheerfully encouraged him to look at another tract, the Living Water’s Million-dollar bill, and visit the link on the front, fullyfreefilms.com, where he might find a short video that could really pique his interest. I wrapped up our conversation by sharing that I once had similar questions about how God could have made everything, until one morning when I stared at my eyeball for half an hour after pulling out an eyelash and realized there was simply no way it could have come into existence by itself—it had to be designed by an all-powerful Creator, and that realization gave me real hope.

The District

Shortly after our conversation at Gray’s Lake, it got dark and we ventured over to the District in Ankeny where there is always something going on during a Friday night.

So, we thought.

The area was pretty dead with plenty of parking left. Wherever the people were, we wanted to be there. After getting a coffee and strolling around a little, I suggested we role-play as we look for people walking towards their car. Andrew decided to take the moment by the ears and just go for it and got into a group of men who were waiting outside the movie theater. Turns out one of them was getting married the next day. Wasn’t the most tactful approach, but people are going to hell without the good news, and maybe it’s what’s needed today. But, once that ice was broken, he really didn’t know where to go with the conversation he created.

Unlike most evangelists, I tend to size up the people I may want to engage with a tract or conversation, so I don’t usually give tracts to everyone with a pulse while I’m out. Maybe I’m wrong, and I should. But I want to be tactful so that I am heard. It’s not that I am fearful of the potential people to talk to, but I want to be heard and maybe injecting myself into a group of guys who are obviously having a private conversation. At the same time, I don’t want to be so timid that I’m not willing to do that.

Shortly after, I gave a tract to a guy who’s name was Kenneth. He took the Living Waters Million-dollar Bill and read it intently, sighed, and asked from the Bible where heaven was. I asked some questions trying to draw him out as to his reasoning behind it, or his beliefs. Without getting into this strange encounter, he said he:

1. is a Christian. A Messianic Jew, but was never Jewish.
2. does not believe in the entire New Testament, but only Matthew and John.
3. reads only from the Tanakh (the Hebrew Bible).
4. does not believe in Paul’s apostleship, therefore his writings are invalid.
5. believed Peter’s Gentile influence was so strong we should ignore his writings as well.
6. does not attend a fellowship, but worships a god at home with his wife.
7. wouldn’t tell us that we were wrong, how he formed this belief, or what his basic beliefs were.

Without having any solid ground to stand on, I started asking questions and receiving vague answers. Andrew jumped in immediately and started sharing parts of the New Testament he already said he didn’t believe was authoritative, and you could almost tell this gentleman checked out of the conversation towards the beginning of the conversation.

After our encounter, Andrew and I took a walk back to our cars and talked about what just happened. I had several things I thought were important, but shared them as “learning experiences” on what should have happened.

• Had a better plan for the night: It helps to have an event to go to, so there are plenty of people staying in one place instead of always on the move. Even if I couldn’t find anything happening, it’s still useful to have a go-to spot where people tend to gather.
  
• Used the Law to bring about the knowledge of sin: Since he proclaimed a belief in the books of Moses, that should have been a green flag to get into the Ten Commandments, what sin is, and His need for a Savior. Appealing to the conscience and not the mind is the best route to take in any witnessing conversation.
  
• Avoided purely intellectual arguments: Knowledge by itself never saves anyone. Even if atheists were given all the proofs of God’s existence to their complete satisfaction, they still would not repent. Only the conviction of the Holy Spirit brings salvation and lifts the veil from people’s eyes.
  
• Don’t bother with information we don’t know: Instead of striving around information we don’t know, let’s focus on the basics and what we do know.
  
• We didn’t begin the night in prayer: This ended up being our biggest mistake. About halfway through the conversation, I suddenly realized we had never stopped to pray before sharing our faith. We met up, spent time catching up on life, and then jumped straight into sharing the gospel.

Still, the night didn’t end on a bad note. We had some real wins. People received tracts, and we did it all without any angry confrontations. No one had to raise or lower their voice. Our curiosity outweighed any worry about how things might turn out. In the end, we shook hands and walked away feeling like we’d learned something.

Bottom line is that not every gospel conversation will go as planned. Some will end awkwardly, some will expose weaknesses in our approach, and others will leave us wishing we had said something differently. But even a conversation that seems to fail can serve a redemptive purpose when we take time to reflect on what happened, learn from our mistakes, and prepare to engage more effectively the next time. The goal isn’t to win every conversation; it’s to become more faithful and effective in sharing the truth.