It was just another Friday. Uncool, non-partying senior that I was, I looked forward to a quiet night at home.
Like a jolt, the thought hit me. “Call so-and-so.”
I froze. Shook my head. No way. What would I say?
“Share the gospel.”
My eyes widened. Stomach clenched. But I’m not in the cool group! I could never call that person! Way too awkward.
My afternoon shot, I tried to busy myself and quiet that still, small voice.
No. I’m sorry. I just can’t.
Time passed and the gut-wrenching eased. My mom returned home that evening. Her words stopped me cold.
“Did you hear about the accident?”
She told me. The brother of the person whose name had pierced me hours before had wrecked coming home from a party. He didn’t make it.
The wave of icy hot guilt has never totally left me from that moment. I don’t know what would have happened if I’d obeyed the still, small voice to share the gospel with that person too popular for me to normally call.
It’s a pain I never want to feel again.
If I believe there is a God, and I do, if I believe He directs our paths, and I do, then I must also acknowledge that at times He moves me. I wish I’ve always obeyed that moving. I’ve NEVER once regretted obeying.
So many people ask why God chooses for bad things to happen.
I don’t think He does.
I think God moves His people to act.
And sometimes they don’t.
So with my heart pounding, I beg forgiveness from the one I didn’t call that day. I did call you years later, and it was a wonderful conversation. I was too chicken to tell you the whole story. I still am. I’m terrified you’ll blame me as much as I blame myself. I am so sorry.
I’d still keep it as my deep, dark secret, except that tonight I have that same burning “you have to share this.” Call me crazy. Maybe I am. But I’ve lived enough life now to know that God does move us. And we’re crazy not to listen when He speaks.
What has God told you to do? Are you listening?