But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.
On Wednesday afternoon, I finally wrote out my testimony, as I understand it. To see, in ink (well, electronic ink), how far God had brought me out of the bog of not knowing Him was amazing. As I was thinking about and writing my testimony, I received an email from Everett about the Black Friday Treasure Hunt. I read the email, quite unsure of how I would actually carry one out, if I were to do so. I thought I would drive with a friend who was staying on campus for Thanksgiving. As it turns out, this was not to be (read later). Overall, the Hunt sounded like something I wanted to do, mostly because I knew it would present a challenge for my flesh, which would rather sit at home.
I spent all of Wednesday evening tormented by the emotions that arose as I read my testimony repeatedly, and with each reading, reminded of the deadness of my heart without God, and the absolute goodness of God’s heart. In addition, the initial excitement/adventure that I had imagined would be the Treasure Hunt was quickly morphing into fear/inadequacy/plain old doubt. If I did have to talk to someone about God, what would I tell him or her? Not my testimony—after all, I was feeling so fragile in light of it. I might stumble upon my words, I might cry, etc and not get the message across. It was as though I had become fearful of myself. The truth of 2 Corinthians 12:9 was not registering that night. I was letting the flesh win.
On Thursday morning, I was still in that weird mood. As I was shopping for Thanksgiving ingredients, I was silently praying, asking God for His will to be done regarding the Treasure Hunt as well as sharing my testimony. In the evening, just as I was gaining a modicum of courage about going out for the Treasure Hunt, I realized the friend I wanted to go with would not be available on Friday. I was disappointed, and unsure of what God meant by that, but I continued to pray about the Hunt.
Mid morning Friday, I was still uncertain as to what I was going to do about the Hunt. I did not know whom I was going with. Moreover, I had been praying about God giving me signs for the Hunt, but I was not entirely sure that He had given me any. My mind resumed its turmoil, knowing I had to go out somewhere, but at the same time not knowing exactly where to go, or what I was looking out for. Interestingly, I kept remembering Pastor Aaron’s 21 Nov. sermon, where he spoke about how God decided to send out 35 pairs of 2 laborers, instead of 70 laborers, because the harvest was, and is, His. Wow. Now that I write this, I realize I was thinking that somehow this harvest had something to do with me. No. The heart is deceitful above all things! Anyway, I began to quietly talk with God, saying, “God, you sent out 35 pairs of 2 laborers, so how can I go anywhere as one laborer? And they must have been elders or something, I’m just 22!” (Again, thinking that this harvest was about me, plus mixing in a little Jonah)
Frankly, I was verging on distraught. I continued talking to God, telling Him that I did not know why He had put it on my heart to go anywhere. As I was circulating around my room, I thought, out of the blue: “Well, I might as well get on the trolley and go to the hair salon!” God is good! Obviously, I did not think this was the Lord at work, that this was God conversing with me. As I prepared to leave, I continued asking God to show me a sign or two, but I still could not come up with anything. If there was going to be a Treasure Hunt, it was going to be quite interesting. Before I left my room, however, I asked God to prepare my heart for what was going to transpire, though I did not know what (At this point I knew it would not be a traditional Treasure Hunt).
I continued praying on the way to the trolley, until I met a young man who had been the victim of a robbery. He did not know how to get to 58th and Baltimore using the trolley, so he asked me, as we were the only two at the 36th street station. Now, on any other day, I would not have known how to get to 58th and Baltimore either, but this was God in conversation with me—the Harvest was His. I had gone to 57th and Baltimore on Wednesday evening, while I was deep in thought about my testimony, to visit one of my College House’s Allied guards. That was the first time I had been on the 34. As he rode away, I asked God: “God, was I supposed to initiate a conversation about You with him? Did I do what You would have had me do?” Nevertheless, I prayed for him, and his face remains very vivid in my memory.
As I was coming back from the hair salon, something happened that made me absolutely realize that God hears us all the time. When I sat in the trolley, an old woman in front of me gave me an easy-to-read book on starting a relationship with the Risen Savior. She had been handing them out to those who were sitting close to her—she was not moving around the trolley. I thanked her, not sure what to do. Would I pass it on to someone else? We rode a few blocks, and a young woman in a red coat got on the trolley and decided to sit next to her. She declined to take the small book, and her face remains etched in my memory as well., while the others have faded, strangely. Perhaps that is God’s way of telling me to keep her and the young man in my prayers. A few blocks later, our corner of the trolley filled up with middle-aged men and a woman who sat next to me. The old woman in front of me passed the books out, and the men took them, thanking her. Some in the trolley craned their necks, asking for books too, and maybe it was just me, but the woman in the red coat, seated next to her, adopted a quizzical expression, as though asking, “Who is this God ye speak of?” God was planting seeds for His Harvest!
Now, the woman next to me tapped the old woman of the books, wanting to get a book too! The woman, unfortunately, did not have any books left. Aaaahhhh!!!! This was truly God. What are the chances, that I would be right there, then? What about the co-laborers in God’s field? What about my question of who I would give this book to? I immediately gave her my book, and she was so grateful, saying that she did not know where she would be without Jesus. Glory to His Name! The old woman, so bathed in the Holy Spirit, reached out her hand to bless us, and got off at the next stop, as though her work was done! If only for a moment, I was humbled to be her co-laborer for the Harvest that belongs to the Most High. Wow. God is so provident, I am losing my words, amazed, repeatedly, by His faithfulness. The woman seated next to me and I launched into a conversation about the never-failing love of God and how we all need Him. Maybe someone on that trolley had had his or her heart prepared by God to hear our conversation. I love the Lord!
So, although this turned out not to be a traditional Treasure Hunt, it turned out to be so beautiful, that it could only have happened through the Lord’s orchestration. Now, I am so excited for the next time I go out with a group of friends to witness about the love of Christ, and his desire to see everyone come to Him. I am no longer fearful about sharing my testimony, or sharing about Christ. Why? Because Christ shared with me, allowing me to see just how the Lord prepares so well for His Harvest. He so meticulously plans the Harvest, and it is such a privilege to fit so perfectly into His plan.
In Christ Alone,
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