Daughter of the King

What if she's always known Him?

A girl in a light jacket stands chilled on the street corner. She holds a stack of tracks in one hand, while warming the other in her pocket. The traffic light turns green and dozens of Christmasly minded people walk her way. She passes out the leaflets hoping that someone will stop to talk with her. The crowd takes the papers without much more than an inquisitive glance and a mumbled "thanks." When the last stragglers had gone she sighed heavily and thought, "America is too busy for the Gospel today." A strange voice interrupted her, "what are you handing out there?" She turned around quickly and her heart beat faster. The man stood with a cigarette held to his mouth, and a puzzled look on his face. She wondered if his question was prompted by pity, considering he had been standing there while the crowd dusted her efforts. "Well, these are tracks explaining the Gospel sir." He looked at her, "I'm a Marine miss, and I my Mamma would be so proud of you standing out here like this. Do you do it because you want to, or does someone make you come?" The girl smiled, there were a couple ways she could answer that. If it were up to her alone there would be no way in the world standing downtown for 3 hours to share the Gospel would appeal in the least. Yet, she was not her own. She was saved, and the Holy Spirit had her out here tonight. There was no where else she'd rather be. "I want to be here sir." He glanced up curious at her determination. "I'm a Christian sir, and people need to hear about what Jesus has done to save the lost..." He cut in, "oh, I think it's great. I grew up Methodist, and I go to church every time I'm home. See I'm a Marine. I just got home this month, and my Mamma was really upset to hear that I don't attend church in Iraq or even pray." The girl looked up sincerely, "I want to thank you for your service. I really appreciate it." He shifted his feet uncomfortably. She wondered if anyone had ever thanked him before. Than she caught his hazel eyes again, "Why didn't you pray in Iraq?" He tossed the unfinished cigarette butt away as if to symbolize some excuse for leaving the scene. "I wanted to do it alone." She thought he was still talking about praying, "Well, I would tend to agree that a forced prayer isn't of much value." "No, I wanted to do Iraq alone." His voice was proud, and, perhaps regretful. "When I'm ready, I won't be a Methodist Christian. They're just so watered down." This man had spent some time thinking about religion, but it didn't save his soul, and he knew it. She wondered aloud, “When will you be ready?” He shrugged his shoulders, “sometime I guess.” He then courteously asked about her church, and why she liked it so much. He asked about the differences between most denominations and Presbyterian. Finally, after a brief overview he looked up from the side walk where his eyes were fixed on a lonely crushed leaf, "Miss, have you been a Christian all your life?" What should she say, the time was short, he was about to leave, and the answer was so crucial. "Well, I've known about Jesus since I can remember because my parents were eager to teach me, but I wasn't born a Christian; in fact I was born a sinner deserving of Hell. I am a Christian now, and I'm forever thankful for Christ’s work on the cross." He looked almost jealous, and a bit sorrowful, then anger and apathy took over and he tried to casually say, "well, I've got friends inside. Nice talking with you Rebekah."
"Thanks Brett. You too."

*Sigh* It wasn't the first time she had received a raised eyebrow when sharing her testimony. She can tell that most are thinking, "yeah, she just doesn't know any different. Just wait till she gets out, of course her parents can brainwash her now, but there will be a day when she'll wake up." This guy didn't seem too different. There was a bit of discouragement in her voice as she began to pass out the tracks again. Then she remembered Him. She remembered how awesome it is to be His, and to not remember anything different. A smile leapt on her lips as she squeezed her eyes shut tight and whispered, "Thank you Jesus. Thank you so much."

posted by Becca @ 8:51 PM