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The Free Fall of Obedience and Independence

Evangelism: Cory Miller
Friday, August 26, 2005

As we drive toward the "projects" of Kansas City, Kansas, I feel as though my feet are trying to stop the car as if I were riding in a Flintstones-era vehicle and could immediately apply my human brakes.

I know I am inevitably heading toward a place I have no business being and I loathe the idea. The flesh is kicking and screaming. Everything in me is saying, "Stop this car now and go home to sit on the couch!"

Heading to an inner-city apartment complex to share my faith in Jesus Christ with absolute strangers of which I know I have almost nothing in common sends every "comfort zone" alarm I have blaring in my head.

Loren, my lead for this mission, is a veteran street evangelist. He's led hundreds to Christ on the streets of downtown Kansas City and trained a hundred more to do the same.

On the way over, he tells me his dream is to "hit" 42,000 homes in Wyandotte County in an expanding circle around the church he serves as a part-time associate pastor.

As he tells me this, I think to myself that he's probably 25 years older than me and should be committed to the Looney bin. He has an appetite for soul winning that makes others hungry. He wants people to be saved, to hear the Gospel, to know Jesus like he's known Jesus the past 14 years of his life.

I know he'll wear out those legs and his body, if need be, trying to get to those 42,000 homes.

I'm in the car today because I have finally come to grips with the fact that I am not actively sharing my faith on a regular basis and that I am a coward. I consistently keep my mouth shut when the Holy Spirit prompts me to open it with the Gospel ... and I can't live with the conviction and my disobedience any longer. I know I have been commanded to be going ... but have been AWOL - seemingly trapped inside my sinful flesh.

And I know the best way to alleviate this problem is to hit the streets with Loren regularly and witness in a challenging environment like this one to help me start witnessing for Jesus.

This whole epiphany came to me a few weeks ago as I was sitting on the floor of a Nashville hotel room listening to a morning devotional of the North American Mission Board's Inner City Evangelism team - a group of 15 or so battle-tested street evangelists assembled to assault the hardest and poorest parts of Nashville with the King's Message.

It was during the devotional and an impromptu testimonial time afterward that I had my toes stepped on by God. Actually, I think I got punched squarely in the nose.

One by one the street evangelists began sharing their testimonies and the reason why they traveled from all over the country for a brutal week of nine-hour days walking the streets of Nashville where others have long since retreated. I found out one of the teams was sharing the Gospel on an inner city street corner earlier that week when they heard what sounded like gunshots. They quickly asked the residents they were talking with to verify if the noise was indeed gunshots. The reply? "If you hear an ambulance, it was."

After a short while, the sirens came blazing.

As each person shared around the circle, more and more stories emerged that made me shrivel in shame. These were humble men and women who loved Jesus and wanted others to know His benevolent love and complete forgiveness - no matter the cost. I felt unworthy to even hear their stories.

Later that day, Loren and I sat on some church steps to eat lunch and began to share our hearts with each other, but I already knew his heart - the streets, the lost, and the Remedy.

After hearing the testimonies, I took a moment to share mine: "Take me to those streets, Loren, and mentor me. I want to go. I need to go."

As I rode in Loren's little red Hyundai I was reminded of that conversation and knew I was being obedient to go. But, as we crossed the bridge into Kansas City and what seemed like another world compared to my small town upbringing in Oklahoma, I couldn't help but feel as though I was on a wooden roller coaster, inching toward the top of the ride and the moment when I would be free falling - out of control.

Tucked away at the end of a forgotten street which was bordered by a noisy interstate, we parked in the apartment complex and started knocking on doors.

The free fall had begun.

The scene was everything I thought it might be: Rundown shoebox apartments with wooden shingled roofs on both sides of a desolate street. Mangy, overgrown grass crossed with foot paths to the doors. The stench of garbage in the air, mixed occasionally with Chinese food or fresh air. Oil stains in the parking lot and scattered trash. People talking on cell phones and walking past us as though we didn't exist. We're often met with glazed over looks and dirty clothes.

The terror of the free fall begins to smooth out a little after the first visit, a lady who prays to receive Christ. But my anxiety persists and I'm on high alert, trying to watch the events and people around me and at the same time be engaged in the conversations.

To make matters worse, this is the day after the Fourth of July and the neighborhood kids were popping leftover firecrackers, forcing the ever present remembrance of the Nashville team's story of the gunshots and ambulancesirens.

Needless to say, I jumped every time I heard a pop.

Yes, I'm a rookie - green and underexposed to the world that exists just a few miles from my own front door.

In all, seven people would pray to receive Christ through Loren's witness. Others would receive New Testaments, tracts, local church information and other materials to look through. They would be prayed for and with. There were handshakes and a couple of hugs.

I had the opportunity to talk to Breanne, a second-grader with a sweet smile. She wanted copies of everything we had.

Only God may know what comes of this night. Our efforts may only be a tiny dot in their journeys with God. But if we don't go, how will they know?

The reason Loren goes is why I must go: People are in danger of spending eternity in hell and someone must share the message of salvation found only in Jesus with them.

Tonight, in my journey though, I know I took that critical first step in opening my mouth again and made the first free fall. I figure as I get experience I'll begin enjoying the fall more.

I've committed to go out with Loren regularly. And just maybe I can help him reach more of those 42,000 homes - and one more soul for Jesus Christ.

To God be the glory.

Copyright (c) 2005, Cory J. Miller. All rights reserved.

Cory Miller is the Communications Director at Midwestern Baptist Theological Seminary.