Millie, Joe, and Mario

And I say to you that many will come from east and west, and sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven….But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also…For our citizenship is in heaven, from which we also eagerly wait for the Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ…Let not your heart be troubled; you believe in God, believe also in Me. In My Father’s house are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself; that where I am, there you may be also. Matthew 8:11, 6:20-21; Philippians 3:20; John 14:1-3

I didn’t feel like going to the train station today. I shot-up one of those quickie prayers and asked God to guide me in what I should do. I was kind of hoping He would tell me to go back to bed because I needed more rest. He didn’t. I was however drawn to His word and opened it to my Psalm reading for the day; Psalm 81. Verse one read:

Sing aloud to God our strength; Make a joyful shout to the God of Jacob.

To the Train Station I Go!

I stopped to pray before I left and asked the Lord for some divine appointments (as usual), and added, “It would really be cool if I could lead a person to Jesus today.”

I drove the five miles or so to the train station, took up my usual spot, and began to play my guitar.

Mario

I was playing an hour or so before I saw Mario. He was talking to another fellow on the bench next to mine. When I looked up at him our eyes met and he said hello. I stopped playing and said to him, “You’re a pastor, aren’t you.”

He said yes and asked how I knew.

I said because he was wearing those hip eyeglasses that most pastors are wearing these days.

He laughed, but I sensed something about him that wasn’t right. Oh, he was smiling, and seemingly happy, but I felt this negativity. When he spoke again the pieces fell into place. “I’m a pastor and a Jehovah Witness.”

He caught me a little off guard, so I reached into my coat pocket, pulled out one my ‘Trillion Dollar’ tracts, and handed it to him saying, “How would you like a trillion dollars?” When he reached for it, I teasingly pulled it back and said, “But first you have to answer the trillion dollar question.”

“What’s the question?” he asked.

“Are you going to heaven?”

“No”

That of course set off our Biblical discussion. Mario didn’t have his fake bible, but I had my real one with me. When I (lovingly) told Mario why his bible was bogus, he replied, “There are many Bibles written today where men have changed the words or have taken words out.” As he spoke the words it seemed he realized that the negative tone of his remark cast a dark shadow over his JW translation, so he changed the topic.

We probably spoke about 20 minutes. I brought him to places in the Bible, but Mario wasn’t going to budge off his false doctrine, so I told him it was probably best we end our discussion. It was a friendly separation, but nevertheless I was saddened by how deceived this man is and also that he is leading sheep astray in the same station as me. The Bible montage (above) about Heaven is for Mario–If he continues down his path, his remark about not going to Heaven will be quite prophetic.

Millie

I played about another hour before packing up my guitar and leaving. As I walked to my car I was drawn to the bench where Millie was sitting. “Wanna answer the trillion dollar question,” I asked as I handed her and the guy sitting next to her, one of my tracts.

“Sure,” she said, “What’s the question?”

So I asked her if she was going to Heaven and she replied that she probably was not. Joe said he probably was because he was a good guy. Meanwhile, Millie told me the gospel message from memory, but she hadn’t yet received Jesus as her Lord and Savior. By the time we had parted ways, Millie did receive Jesus – praise be to God.

Then Things Got Ugly

As we chatted some more I revealed that I used to be a cop in the town where she lives. “Oh, what’s your name,” she asked. When I told her, her countenance dropped.

“I remember you now. You once arrested my son; you tackled him in the street and held a gun to his head. I’ve got it on tape.”

Umm…

I told her I didn’t remember doing that, but if I did I was sorry it happened.

“Anyway,” she said, “I forgive you; I am a Christian now!”

Praise be to God!

Joe

“So Joe, how bout you, do you wanna accept Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior,” I asked?

He said that he wasn’t ready, but he would read the other tract I gave him (with the Romans Road on it) when he got to work.

The bus came and Millie and Joe had to leave to catch it.

Please Pray

Please remember Mario, Millie, and Joe in your prayers — Mario is deceived, Millie is a new believer, and Joe is somewhere in the middle.

Then saith he unto his disciples, The harvest truly is plenteous, but the labourers are few: Pray ye therefore the Lord of the harvest, that he will send forth labourers into his harvest. Matthew 9:37-38

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Two Guys

For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon Me and go and pray to Me, and I will listen to you. And you will seek Me and find Me, when you search for Me with all your heart. I will be found by you, says the Lord, and I will bring you back from your captivity; I will gather you from all the nations and from all the places where I have driven you, says the Lord, and I will bring you to the place from which I cause you to be carried away captive. Jeremiah 29:11-14

Wednesdays are typically Asbury Park Train Station days. I pack up my guitar, drive the five miles or so to the station and settle into one of the pew-like benches. The mission: to share the Good News through song. Talking about Jesus in the train station is frowned upon, but singing about Him is apparently okay; regardless of how well or un-well you sing.

I always pray before I go and ask the Lord to open doors and such, but normally there’s not a whole lot of interaction. Occasionally someone will amble by and give an appreciative nod to the music and/or the Subject matter, but for the most part I’m just praying for some evangelical seeds to be planted. I’m not concerned—God is in control. Today was more interesting than most in that I had two visitors: Rob and Gene.

Rob

I could smell Rob before I could see him. As he sat down next to me it was clear he was inebriated; matted hair hung from beneath his faded cap, stains marked the back and sleeves of his winter coat, and the front of his pants were wet down one side to his knee.

“Music sounds good; mind if I sit down?” he asked.

“Thanks. Not at all.” I said.

He introduced himself as Rob and stuck out his hand. Rob wanted to talk and I wanted to listen, and like drunks do, he repeated the same comments and asked the identical questions over and over. When it was my turn we talked about Jesus.

I knew going in that was going to be a difficult road; talking to intoxicated people for the purpose of conveying a message (any message) is generally an act of futility. Nevertheless, there we were sitting on the same bench chatting away—I’m convinced God had orchestrated this meeting and it really wasn’t any of my business to figure out why He had.

I briefly shared my testimony and Rob was genuinely intrigued that God healed me of my addictions–He then confessed that he hated every aspect of his life. I told him God could heal him right then and there if he wanted Him too. Rob told me all about Jesus Christ and sin and salvation. I told him, “Satan knows Jesus too. The difference is that Christians follow Jesus.”

Sadly he chose not to follow Him this day. Rob got up to leave.

I gave him a tract and told him to put it in his pocket and to read it when he could see more clearly.

Gene

About an hour later Gene joined me on the bench. At first I thought Gene was a drunk too. He wasn’t. He wheeled his large, green plastic garbage can in front of him and sat down. A mop stuck out from beneath the bungeed lid and I spied a shiny toaster through the breach it created.

“Music sounds good; mind if I sit down?” he asked.

“Thanks. Not at all.” I said.

He told me his name was Gene and that he thought it was no accident that he chose to sit down next to me. “God wanted me to hear this music I guess.” He said.

“Are you a Christian?” I asked.

He said that he was and threw in, “And I’ve been clean for four years August 26th.”

“Praise the Lord,” I said. “What happened four years ago that set you straight.”

Gene told me his tragic story, one littered with success, drugs, alcohol, and one relapse after another. One night, about four years ago, he planned on killing himself.

“I had a rock about this big,” he said holding up his thumb and index finger to form a circle, “and I was going to smoke the whole thing. I put out nine candles all around me and sat under a blanket in the middle. I broke off a piece and fired it up. Instantly the room got dark and I felt a big black man leaning over me and pushing me down. I knew it was the devil and smashed the pipe against the cement.”

Gene acted out the scenes as he spoke.

“I’m kinda ashamed to tell you what happened next—I prayed for Jesus to save me and immediately the darkness lifted and I was able to fall asleep. But when I woke up, there was the pipe and the crack, so I did it again. And the same thing happened! So I hid under the blanket and told Jesus, ‘If I see the light coming through this window tomorrow morning, I will give my life to you’. The next morning the sun was shining through the window and that was about four years ago.”

Gene went on to tell me how his life is today and about his church and his pastor. The truth of the matter is Gene’s life is still very, very difficult. While he was talking an older teenager walked over; Gene stood up and gave him a hug. If I were to size him up, I’d say the guy was a drug dealer.

“That’s my nephew,” he said hanging his head a little lower, “I shouldn’t be hanging around guys like that, but he’s family. I share with him what I can and pray for him all the time. He’s in God’s hands now.”

The northbound train was announced; Gene said his goodbyes and walked towards the platform.

“I’m gonna pray for you Gene…how can I pray for you?” I asked.

“The whole thing,” he said, “you can just pray for the whole thing.”

Rob and Gene

I don’t know, my heart breaks for both these guys. By his own admission Rob is rarely sober enough to grasp the reality of his situation, let alone God’s grace and plan for his life. Gene on the other hand is saved and his eternal future is secure, but satan is persistently on his heals trying to drag him to an early death. In the middle there’s me trying to understand why the Lord blessed me with an almost effortless faith. It all doesn’t make much sense right now.

If you remember, would you pray for these guys.

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