Underestimated

I'm feeling a bit ashamed. It is a foolish thing to underestimate God.

Even as I'm feeling this, I'm reminded of my college days, when we were taught so much about the founder of our school, D.L. Moody. In one story, Moody held a multiple-day Gospel meeting. He spoke eloquently on the evening of the first day, and as time was running out, he decided to forgo his normal practice of sharing the Gospel of Jesus Christ, calling people to repent and giving them an opportunity to pray to receive God's grace. "I still have tomorrow," he thought, "I'll do it then."

That was the night of the Great Fire in Chicago. Thousands lost their homes, and the auditorium in which the meetings were being held burned to the ground. What is worse, many lost their lives. Moody was haunted by the knowledge that he knew the Truth, he had the opportunity to share it with others, and that he missed an opportunity to ensure that those who might perish would know Jesus before they left this earth. He vowed never again to wait to share the beauty of Jesus with another soul, because, after all, who but God can control how many tomorrows we have?

I met last night with the small band of young men that we affectionately refer to as "Church at Chili's." Nathan is a godly young man whom I am mentoring. Jerrod (for whom you can be praying) gave his life to Christ earlier this year, but more and more he seems to be trying to take it back from Him (while he hung out with us last week, it was because we got together to play guitar; yet each time we meet to read the Bible and pray, he has several excuses for why he can't come. Unfortunately, he had such an excuse last night). Niko joined us, and brought his girlfriend and 18-day-old daughter. The entire night was consumed by Niko catching us up on life: his time in jail within the last week, remembrances of friends killed and hauled off to juvenile hall, and his troubled family. Sure we got to know him quite a bit better, and his girlfriend as well, but we only opened the Bible for a brief moment to discuss what we would be reading for next week's discussion.

At the close of the evening, as we were waiting for Niko to get the car, I asked Amanda (somewhat jokingly), "Well, was it everything you hoped it would be, joining us for dinner?" Her response crushed me. She said it was nice and all, but not what she expected. She wanted to see what it was like when we read Scripture and talked about it. She said, "I was curious to see what a 'normal' night looked like." She didn't want idle chit-chat. She was ready to be with God.

In my own foolish wisdom, I considered it more important to know the two "new-comers" and to make them feel welcome and comfortable. I lost sight of the fact that they had come, of their own volition, to a place where they thought they would experience the love, the wisdom and the presence of God. They were willing to brave the rain, to bring their newborn child, and to boldly enter an existing group without anxiety all for the sake of seeing the face of Jesus.

No one comes to the Father unless they are drawn. And I do not want to miss an opportunity ever again.