The Tender Conscience

On Sunday evening (Easter), Greg and I were on the road toward home after attending the evening service at church. I had 7 Easter packs left in my purse (see the Frightening Friday posts from 3/26 and 4/2 for more details on that). It was dusk, getting dark but still light enough to see. About 3 miles from our home, there is a skate park. The weather is getting warmer, and the skate park is getting busier. As we were rounding the bend before the skate park, I was going to ask Greg to stop if he saw kids there, but the words never came out of my mouth. And there were several kids at the skate park. We arrived home and parked in the garage. I stood by the van. Greg said, "Are you coming in?" I said, "Would you drive me back to the skate park?" My loving husband, without a question, said, "Yes."

We went back to the skate park, and I handed out my remaining Easter packs (each containing some candy and a gospel tract). As I got out of the van at the park, I thought "I look like a 40-year-0ld woman wearing a skirt who just came from a service at a conservative Baptist church" (bingo!). I felt very uncool. As I approached the young people, they were all very friendly to me. Their faces and tones softened when I handed them the little plastic bag and said, "Happy Easter". One young man struck up a conversation with me about church. He asked what church I attended. I told him which one. Then I said, "I just wanted to make sure you received the gospel in your hands this Easter Sunday." There was another young man there whom I've seen riding through our neighborhood on his way home from the park. I was able to introduce myself to him. He was very pleasant. They all thanked me as I headed back toward the van.

The reason I asked Greg to bring me back to the skate park is because, I felt the Holy Spirit prompting me to stop, and I knew if I ignored my conscience, it would be all the easier to do so the next time. Every time I pass that skate park, I want to talk to the kids there (every time). My heart aches for them, not because I pity them, but because, even though I don't know them, I have love and concern for them. The thought that is ever present in my mind is, "Have they heard the gospel? If not, who will tell them?"

This is not my first visit to that skate park (nor will it be my last). The hardest part is always stopping, getting out of my vehicle, and walking up to the first kid. They usually make fun of me (or the gospel) on my way to approaching them and as I'm walking away from them and, oddly, that never bothers me. I expect it. It makes sense to me. My fear is irrational.

I post this story today because I struggle in this area, and I hope to encourage others in my struggles. Sharing the gospel is not easy, but we are called to do it (Matthew 28:19-20). If you are a Christian reading this blog today, I encourage you to find a way to share the gospel where you are. The young people at the skate park on Sunday night were not hanging out at my church, attending the service. I had to go find them.