Ordinary Evangelism

"Dang it," I thought when I arrived home, "I forgot my business cards."

I interacted with a number of people today, running very ordinary errands. I dropped my wife's car off at the shop and chatted briefly with a young employee I met the last time I was there. The owner of the shop then gave me a ride to Starbucks while I waited for my car. In the course of that brief drive, I learned that he likes to drive down to North Carolina with his girlfriend in order to visit his extended family. I also learned that he grew up in Washington DC (the actual city, not the surroundings). When I was at the shop a few weeks ago, I learned that his son is a former Marine and with wife and two-year-old in two, is finishing his education, paid for by Uncle Sam.

At Starbucks, I enjoyed some quality work time. I started in on the translation of my Bible passage for Sunday morning, wrestling with the Greek and enjoying the richness of God's Word. I read a few chapters of the Westminster Confession of Faith, and continued to correspond with Church family members as I get reintegrated within the body. As I waited to be picked up, a woman noticed I was reading my Bible (just started 1 Samuel) and started talking to me about going to a Bible-believing church after growing up Roman Catholic and how exciting it is to learn about God's Word.

Finally, I was picked up by Mike, who works at the car shop. He's a young father like me, with a two year old boy he adores. He looks forward to taking his kid to sporting event once the new ballpark in Ashburn in completed.

After each interaction, I thought "Dang it, I forgot my business cards." But that doesn't really matter. Evangelism is not a spiritual "one night stand." It is not simply the presentation of the Gospel, or inviting people to church, but includes the proactive love of strangers and acquaintances--the fostering of relationships that God may one day bless to draw another sinner into the folds of His saving grace in Christ.

I will have more opportunities to hand out my card next time I go to the car shop. Maybe I'll ask the owner about how it felt when his son was deployed and what hope he latched onto during that time. Maybe I'll ask Mike about whether his son wants to hang out with another little boy, or whether the two of them want to come to church. Maybe I won't. I'll see what brief conversations bear fruit and which do not. And then I'll think about what to say the next time I go to the car shop.