It was a normal Sunday. Our little rural church had all the regulars sitting in their regular places. I sat in my usual seat, second pew on the right and center aisle. My husband preached a normal sermon.
He's always preached Jesus. Jesus is, can, and will. Jesus is the only Savior. Can save any person. And will save you. Every Sunday morning for nearly 23 years, he believed each time he preached that some lost soul may be sitting in the congregation. It didn't matter to him if the whole church had been baptized before; he preached Jesus.
Sometimes he'd preach and he wouldn't feel particularly good about how he'd preached. When he gave an invitation he'd replay his powerless delivery. The disconnect of his illustrations. When Jesus Paid It All rang out across the pews he'd want to kneel at the altar himself and sing I Surrender All.
On this particular Sunday morning, I don't recall what he'd preached. Nor does he recall how he felt about his sermon. But we do remember that the Lord showed up and knocked his socks off. The first stanza of the song had just begun when down the aisle came two complete strangers. The couple both wanted Jesus. They wanted a Savior. They knew they needed a Savior. And they wanted to know how to be saved. Right then and there.
Long story short, the couple had been living together. Before they were baptized they were married in their home. It was a giant leap of faith for them. He had a very meager income. Marriage meant she couldn't receive financial assistance anymore and they had her two little girls to care for. But they loved one another and they trusted God to provide for them when they followed Him obediently. Their commitment and faith transformed their lives. They were hungry to know more about God. We witnessed a joy come over them all. A few weeks later, a motorcycle crossed the center line and broadsided their vehicle. The lady was killed.
I wonder what would have happened to her had she not come to church that day. If the Holy Spirit had not touched her life and my husband had not given an invitation. If she'd never walked the aisle and made certain she had the Savior she needed for eternal life. For me, I don't want to wonder "what if". I'm happy we offered a time and place where she could solidify in her mind and heart that she was a child of God. I know that someday I will see her again and we will celebrate forever the joy of knowing Jesus.
This post was prompted by an excellent post I read yesterday. Craig Groeschel (I don't know him) published Ten Reasons to Invite People to Follow Christ Every Week. Reading the first reason he gave in his post prodded my memory of that time over twenty years ago. Perhaps you can read it and it may bring a memory to mind that you could share with us all for inspiration. READ ON. selahV
[© SelahV Today, Hariette Petersen, 2008]
The worship hour was almost over. I came upstairs to coordinate the end of the service to children's worship downstairs. A man I'd never seen before stood in the vestibule staring through the large dividing windows and watched the service in the sanctuary.
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