Listening to: Revelation Sermon Series Part 12/28
“Enjoying God’s Protection” by Francis Chan
Being a missionary is like being a cop. Cops have set times when they’re on duty and set times when they’re off. But even when they’re “off duty,” they’re still cops. They have responsibilities, a code to uphold at all times, no matter where they are or what day of the week it is.
The same goes for being a missionary—for being a Christian, period. Sure, there are times when we’re at church or serving others (“on duty”) and other times when we’re just having our own personal time (“off duty”). But just like cops, we’re never really off duty.
We are Christians 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, and it’s our duty to always love on people and share the Good News. I’m pretty bold, and it’s not uncommon for me to pray for people and talk to them about Jesus regardless of where I’m at or who I’m with.
I’ve been doing this since I was first born again. For months before the World Race, I used to drive around San Antonio, looking for people to help—before or after work, during my lunch break, on the weekends. I really enjoy serving others, especially feeding and praying for them, so it’s never really felt like work.
Fast-forward to Panama. Ministry came and went our first week, and for our first day off we decided to go to Las Lajas. Las Lajas is a lovely little town with a secluded beach…and when I say secluded, I mean SECLUDED. Within a mile stretch there are only three establishments, one of which is closed until high season.
We chose a spot near a tiny restaurant called Estrella del Pacifico. Our host had previously told us that the ocean has an extraordinarily strong current off the coast of Panama, and she advised us not to go swimming. So we mostly hung out on the beach, chatting, listening to music. I was reading through 1 Corinthians when I realized two men had come and sat beside us.
Brie and Megan were getting antsy. The men didn’t seem to be going anywhere, and my teammates figured they must be flirting. Maybe they were, maybe they weren’t. But as the situation went from slightly uncomfortable to flat out awkward, Brie and Megan asked if I might have any suggestions.
Yep! I thought, and thenI asked the guys if they needed prayer for anything.
They seemed surprised, but they did say they would receive prayer. It was a somewhat general request—just health and blessings for their families—but I snapped up the opportunity and prayed my heart out. I even did it in Spanish, and afterward I began to share the Gospel.
One of the men said he knew the Bible, and he started talking about the story of Balaam and his donkey (one of my favorites). The other man wasn’t familiar with the Word, but he said he wanted to know how to be a good husband and father and that he didn’t know where to turn for that kind of guidance.
I explained that the Bible is the answer. My teammates helped me translate a snippet of my testimony, I explained how the Word of God is alive—not just words on the page—and I told them how the Word came to life in me and how much It changed my life.
After praying for them one more time and giving the second guy some Scripture on fatherhood and being a good husband, we parted ways. I walked to the water to wash sand off my legs, and the men continued their walk up the beach. They were out of sight by the time I returned.
I was starting to get a sunburn by that time, so I asked Megan to go with me to Estrella del Pacifico to sit on their covered patio. She agreed, and as we started toward the restaurant, she admitted that she had been weirded out by the two men we prayed for. She hadn’t known how to handle the situation because she’d assumed they had ulterior motives.
“They might have,” I said. “A lot of people are looking for something—men, women, a good time, a buzz, whatever. But what they’re really looking for is Jesus. They just don’t know it.”
About that time, a 50-something man walked up the steps of the restaurant and ordered two beers. Once he had them in hand, he saw the open seats at our table and asked if he could join us. “Sure!” I said, and somehow I knew—I just knew—it was another divine appointment.
Megan and I chatted with the guy for a bit. His name was Paul, and as we talked about our travels, I began to piece together tidbits of his life: he was from New York, he was retired from the military, and he’d traveled a lot in the US and across the world. His wife was Panamanian, and they were visiting Panama for her sister’s wedding.
Jaide and Brie joined us a little while into the conversation. Perfect timing. Brie has a tattoo on her back of two handcuffed wrists breaking free of the chains binding them, and as soon as Paul noticed it, he asked what it represents.
“Freedom,” Brie said plainly. She didn’t elaborate beyond that.
Paul nodded halfheartedly. I’m not sure what Brie was doing right then—I think she might have turned and said something to Jaide—but Paul stood up to order two more beers for himself. As he did, he glanced back and asked Brie, “You know someone who’s incarcerated or something?”
I smiled. That was my cue.
“Have you ever heard of having freedom in Jesus?” I asked.
“Freedom…? Ohhh.” He gave me a look. “I’m not the guy to be talking to about that.”
Pessimism and doubt were written all over his expression. But Holy Spirit is way more powerful than either of those things, so I kept going.
“Why not?” I asked. “You don’t believe in God?”
“I don’t believe in ghosts,” he replied, and then he began to tell us about his beliefs. The explanation was kind of odd—something you might describe as agnostic deism. And he admitted to praying, but he didn’t believe it was to Someone who heard or cared about us. He said he prayed for his family, for their health, but he didn’t believe there was actually a God who would answer; though, he did admit there must surely be something bigger than us out there.
But, he was sure to repeat his previous stance: “I don’t believe in ghosts.”
Shrugging, I went for it, starting all the way at the beginning of the the Old Testament. I explained how God is so perfect and holy the only way to atone for sin is by sacrifice—in Old Testament times, that was done through the shedding of blood in animal sacrifices, but now it’s done by believing in the One who died on the Cross for our sins: Jesus Christ.
Paul listened intently, asking questions along the way, some joking, some not. At one point he (jokingly) asked, “So they still make sacrifices in that cult?” And he continued to insist: “I don’t believe there’s some ghost that answers prayers.”
I’ve heard a lot of Christians talk about how they’re afraid of these types of conversations. They worry they won’t know what to say, or they won’t know how to counter the person. Listen, we don’t have to prove God’s case for Him. He can prove Himself, and He already has through creation, through life, and through His Word.
Even so, it’s not really a matter of the person being willing to hear those Truths. That helps, but what’s more important is God allowing them to hear those Truths. That person’s destiny is in the Hands of the King who reigns over all of Heaven and Earth. All you have to do is open your mouth and speak the truth from your heart.
Oftentimes the best way to do that is to simply tell your testimony. People can sit and argue Scripture and the Bible all day long, but NO ONE can ever take away your testimony.
“It has come at last—salvation and power and the Kingdom of our God, and the authority of His Christ. For the accuser of our brothers and sisters has been thrown down to earth—the one how accuses them before our God day and night. And they have DEFEATED HIM by the BLOOD OF THE LAMB and by THEIR TESTIMONY.” Revelation 12:10-11
It was in that moment, as we were sitting at that restaurant, I felt Holy Spirit prompt me to share more of my testimony with Paul.
“I know God exists,” I told him. “I’m so sure of it I quit my job—which I’d had for seven years—sold and donated everything I owned—including my car, which I loved, to pay off a debt—to come and volunteer on this mission for eleven months. In fact, I applied for the World Race the very day I was born again—that is how confident I am that God exists. I walked in darkness for thirty-two years. When I finally started reading the Bible, I realized it is Truth, that it really is the Word of God. After that, it was like a light switch was flipped on. I saw Light for the first time, and let me tell you, I ran toward it.”
Paul had mentioned once or twice that his wife might come looking for him; and after Brie and Jaide shared their testimonies and faith, he glanced around and repeated that his wife was probably wondering where he was.
Holy Spirit nudged me. Offer to pray for him.
“Is it okay if I pray for you?” I asked Paul.
His answer was uncertain at best. “Uh.. suuuureee? If that’s what you feel you need to do. I guess….”
That was as close to a “yes” as I was going to get, and I knew it. Scooting closer, I took his hand and began to pray.
Now, before I go on, let me just say: There are times when Holy Spirit seems to be speaking through me, when I feel extremely connected to God as I pray and in fact can feel and see Holy Spirit moving. I’m able to recall Scripture with ease, books, people, and stories from the Bible, and sometimes I even get words or prophecies from the Lord.
This was not one of those times. There was nothin’ pretty about this prayer. The words weren’t coming, I kept repeating myself, and I wasn’t able to hone in on any Scripture. So I mostly just asked God to reveal Himself to Paul in big ways and to bless him and his family, to protect them on their travels, and to soften Paul’s heart to receive the Truth of God’s Word. Jaide, Brie, and Megan were all praying, too—turns out Jaide was praying extra hard, begging God to touch Paul’s heart profoundly.
Praise Jesus, because I was stumbling all over myself.
When I finally finished, Paul sat back. “Wow,” he said. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I was gauging his expression. All at once, this supernatural peace came over me. “I meant every word I said,” I added, my voice tranquil and relaxed. I had been so worried a moment ago, searching for the right words in the prayer. How was I suddenly so calm?
But then I knew why. As Paul began to respond, I watched tears spill from his eyes. He was choked up, hardly able to speak. “I—” He bowed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know you did,” he finally said, his voice breaking on the words like waves crashing on a rocky shoreline.
He was weeping. This grown man—Mr. New-York-Military-I-Don’t-Believe-in-Ghosts—was weeping right in front of us. He sniffled, unable to formulate any more words. As he sat there, Jaide challenged him to dig deeper in his search for the truth, to not be afraid to ask God the tough questions that people so often avoid asking.
He wasn’t able to respond with much more than a nod. His head remained bowed, tears flowing. Suddenly, a lady on the beach called out to him. Paul’s head shot up. That was his wife, and she was probably wondering why he was sitting with four women.
Smiling, a loopy kind of smile, he tried to call back to her. But he was still at such a loss, he couldn’t! He tried waving her over instead, his expression an odd mix of confused and happy, his eyes darting back and forth as he tried to regain his senses.
I’m smiling SO BIG right now as I think about it, because I can only imagine what God did to make that big, tough New Yorker so disoriented and emotional and happy all at once. And I wonder what God must’ve been thinking:
Sooooo, you don’t believe in ‘ghosts’, you say? Holy Spirit grins slyly. I’ll take care of that.
I have been praying for Paul since that day, and I would like to ask for all my readers and supporters to pray for him, too. I know we don’t have his last name, but we don’t need it because God will know exactly who we’re talking about. He’s awesome and all-powerful like that. 🙂 Thank you so much, friends and family. Signing off from PANAMA! PANAMA-AH-AH-AH! 🙂
Again I say, don’t get involved in foolish, ignorant arguments that only start fights. A servant of the Lord must not quarrel but must be kind to everyone, be able to teach, and be patient with difficult people. Gently instruct those who oppose the truth. Perhaps God will change those people’s hearts, and they will learn the truth. Then they will come to their senses and escape from the devil’s trap. For they have been held captive by him to do whatever he wants. 2 Timothy 2:23-26
