From a somewhat anonymous person who sent their story to us via the website. Looks like he does street ministry with the homeless, and seems to bring new socks with him when he can. New socks seems pretty doable to me. Enjoy.

Today while in street ministry I came into a campsite. A note was left for me by one of the guys.

It read:

brbruce,
I want to thank you for the socks this Christmas.
I was not honest when I said I needed a pair for a friend.
I kept them for my self. I know how you always run out so I lied.
I have a chance to go to Florida so I will be leaving Sunday
I wanted to tell you thank you for the love you show to us.
Not many people come into the camp and you never pass anyone and not
say a prayer.

Please forgive me for lying. One day I hope we will meet again.
I promise that when I can I will buy an extra pair of socks
and give them to some one and pray for them just like you did for me.
Happy trails to you. friend.

 

 

 

by Bob Goff

April Terry is taking a few weeks off during the holidays so I’m offering up a few gifts to you while she’s gone. This first one is from a nearly life-long friend who was one of my very first Young Life kids at Willow Glen High in San Jose, CA. He’s done pretty well since then, so I don’t think I did too much damage. Enjoy…and Merry Christmas!  ~Randy Siever

And now…Bob Goff.

I took an early flight out of Chicago O’Hare this morning for the West Coast. We tried to pull over to the curb just as dawn was breaking. As we did, a traffic cop standing in the street with a big badge started yelling at us and waving her arms wildly.

I couldn’t hear what she was shouting, but she seemed really mad – like maybe we’d run over someone; maybe even her, I thought. After we got our tongue lashing, she started yelling at the next car, and the next. Like us, none of them seemed to be doing anything wrong either. I said my good byes at the curb and walked back to where the cop was standing in the street yelling at the next couple cars. I walked out into the street with all of my luggage, pushing back the thought that she might mace me.

“Hi, I’m Bob, what’s your name?”

“Vanessa” she barked, “Why are you standing in the street?”

“You just seem really upset and I wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas.”

Vanessa looked at me for a second kind of puzzled; like she was deciding whether to reach for her gun or not, but instead, she started belly laughing and slapped me on the shoulder. “Don’t be silly, honey. I just pretend to be mad to keep myself warm.  It’s freezing out here!”

I’m going to think about that for the next couple weeks when I meet someone who at first seems mean, or short, or distracted or uncaring. It’s probably not me; and it’s probably not you either; they’re probably just fighting back the cold that might be surrounding their lives.

You can meet Bob at his blogsite, or by reading Donald Miller’s book, “A Million Miles in a Thousand Years”, where he is a bit of rock star, and Don’s primary living example of what it means to write your life story well.

I am so honored to have been able to present the full-day Doable Evangelism Seminar at River Glen Presbyterian Church in Naperville, IL, last January. It took a year to get it on the calendar and for the amazing evangelism team to get things organized for the day, but wow…what a lasting impact. I am on their newsletter mailing list, and they have a “Practicing Doable Evangelism” column in every issue. They have held a class using Evangelism Without Additives and continue to encourage people to celebrate the small stuff by sharing their ordinary attempts. You get what you celebrate, and River Glen is practicing celebrating the stuff that counts to Jesus. Way to go.

Here’s the latest article from their newsletter, which gives you a peek into what a shifting paradigm looks like in a mainline church:

“Yes, I’m so excited to tell you. But wait, No…”
Well, honestly it is a tricky thing, this talking about experiences with doable
evangelism. On the one hand, after connecting with another in God’s love, I feel an
unusual sense of joy, meaning and an almost giddy urge to shout, “This is awesome,
try it!” But, on the other, can I talk about the results without taking away from an
experience that was almost too precious to be shared? Does the act of reporting take
away from the spontaneous, fun experience of noticing, praying, listening and engaging
in the conversations that follow? Will my focus change from doing what is natural in
the moment to a need to fulfill a religious obligation? Will it no longer come from who
I genuinely am?

I think not; I hope not; and yet it is a struggle, not just for me but also for many who
have shared their stories with me. Following are not only some of our stories (changed
for anonymity sake) but also our struggles with sharing them.

—I love tag teaming with a partner; one of us asks a stranger “how are you?” and
the other prays silently as the person answers. The simplest interaction that only
takes a minute or two can be rewarding. Not to brag, but, I do this a lot.

—I’m learning to ask good questions –ones that are a little riskier than I used to ask–
and to listen. I love the important conversations I’ve stumbling into as a result;
hard conversations, controversial conversations, but conversations that leave me
feeling alive and invigorated. I’ve found people terrified of judgment from the
church, hurt by Christians who want to shove rules and religion down their throat.
I love the opportunity to empathize with their hurt and reassure them that I don’t
see God that way – He’s not a God of terror and rules. I want to talk about the
fulfillment I feel in these conversations –the connection that results means a lot to
me– but I don’t want to sound like a know-it-all.

—I enjoy seeing people come to church because of the contacts I’m making. It’s
genuine for me though; I’m not just after a gold star for church growth.

—My dear friend just told me that although she isn’t sure she believes in God, for
the first time in her life, she hopes that, if there is a God, He accepts her. I can’t
talk about the details that made this interaction beautiful for me though without
divulging a confidence.

—I just realized that the joy I’ve brought to many on my daily walk counts as
evangelism; I’ve been witnessing all along and didn’t realize it. God has been
pleased with me and I only now am experiencing the fulfillment and affirmation of
serving Him.

—Evangelism is so much easier than I thought. Doable – I like feeling that I’m
not over-stepping. However, the word still brings to mind manipulative and
aggressive tactics that I deeply resent being used on people I love.

—I’m starting to see each interaction as an opportunity for a God-ordained moment.
It’s not a habit yet though. I tend to see the times I don’t give the gift of attention
rather than the times I do, and I can feel discouraged.

We struggle to share our successes; we struggle to share our challenges. Thank you to those of you who have taken the risk. I have no answers to make it easier. I’ll simply leave you with what motivates me to keep trying. I’ve found
something I’ve been searching for for years, an ability to connect spiritually with others, and it makes me want to jump for joy and shout, “This is great; try it.”