One morning last week I left women’s group all fired up about bringing Jesus to the people around me.
That afternoon my agenda includes visits to the Christian bookstore, the Dutch store, the health food store and the grocery store in that order. I will keep my eyes and ears open for opportunities, I tell myself.
At my first stop I meet my friend Lena. She is in deep conversation with a lady who is thanking Lena for praying with her drug-addicted son who seemed to have changed his life around after Lena spoke to him on the phone.
The woman is practically in tears as she tells me about the difference in her son.
“Come fishing with me,” Lena says to me after I pay for my book. She already has another fish on her line. She has heard a woman talking about her terrible circumstances and has boldly asked if she wanted prayer. They were looking for a quiet corner.
“It’s already 2 o’clock and I have a whole afternoon of things to do.” I say as I back out of the store. I didn’t want to stay. I didn’t want to be part of what Lena is doing.
As Lena readily admitted, she was drugged up. “If God can use a donkey, He can use me while I’m on drugs,” she whispers. “Come fishing with me?”
What would you have done in my place?