After passionately getting into a mud fight with my oldest son at the gas station (I'll explain later), I realized something about the state of Christian evangelism in this country (from my humble observations). The story began when I met my son at the gas station to fill up my truck with gas. He had borrowed the truck and I specifically told him to keep it on the road. However, as I walked past the truck I noticed it was extremely dirty. It had mud covering the sides and windows and even some on the hood and roof. When I asked him about it, he said, "It rained and the dirt roads were muddy."
"But that is a lot of mud" I said then looked at the front and noticed strands of hay stuck in the mud and hanging from the bumper and mirrors. "Ummm... was there hay on the road."
His explanation seemed lame at the time and infuriated me. I let him know how I felt explaining my disappointment in a fit of passion that culminated in us throwing chunks of mud at each other.
The point of this story is not that I was right and he was wrong or even how I let this object be the source of a heated battle in front of his friends that may have jeapordized our relationship. Although I am saddened by both of our behavior. But what really amazed me is when I thought about the passion I put into that exchange in my desire for his respect, his honestly, and his obedience to such an extent that I have never gone to in the pursuit to save his soul.
As I thought about that, I thought about all the robust debates and arguments and passion in this country and realized I have never witnessed any such level of energy when it comes to Christians reaching out to the lost souls. I have heard many stories about how much peace one has about knowing they are saved and going to heaven but never any agony about how the lost are lost and going to hell. If we truly believe in our heavenly bliss, then do we not truly believe in the weeping and gnashing of teeth that the lost, some of our dearest loved ones included, will endure for eternity. Isn't that more important than a dirty truck and torn up hayfield?Yet, it grieves me that I have never got as passionate as that battle at the gas station in the pursuit to save my own son's soul.
1 comment:
That was an interesting analogy, Kim. I never thought about our demonstration of passion in quite that way. It's easy to be more concerned about our own emotions at the moment than in our children's futures. Thanks for pointing that out.
Post a Comment