People want believers in Jesus to provide them with some miraculous proof that Jesus, the Son of God, is real and alive. I think all genuine Jesus followers are the miraculous proof of life. It’s easy for Christians to forget that their lives serve as the medium for God’s message to mankind. It’s easy to become complacent about all the carefully orchestrated encounters that lead a person to glimpse a real Jesus for the first time. I do several interviews a year with people who tell me the story of their spiritual lives and how they came to believe in Jesus wholeheartedly rather than just intellectually. All their stories involve relationships with other people. Sometimes those relationships took place at churches, or Bible camps, or revivals but talk earnestly with a believer and you will discover a story of a lost sheep being herded to the safety of a shepherd’s arms by a special operations team of heavenly hounds.
Ever watch a border collie responding to the clicks and whistles of the farmer to move a herd of sheep from point A to point B? They make the sheep go where the farmer wants by every means available to a canine: physical presence, barks, and even growls. If the ewe is stubborn there might even need to be a nip here and there. From the sheep’s point of view it’s harassment but from the farmer’s point of view it’s about getting that sheep where it needs to be in order for it to thrive.
As a child, all I knew of what Christians believed was cobbled together from Christmas television specials and the “Davey and Goliath” children’s television shows on Sunday morning. I suppose that makes Goliath my first hound of heaven. I had a friend in High School that took me to a church production of Joseph and His Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat. Performing in that play was a future boyfriend whose mother would try to introduce me to Advent and saying table grace while holding hands. Years later when I joined Bible Study Fellowship I discovered that she had been a BSF leader at the time I knew her. These seemingly coincidental encounters were, for me, glimpses of the sheepdogs darting behind the rocks and moving me by avoidance down broad paths. But there is nothing random or coincidental about how God woos the people He has created. We just miss the method because we’re lost in our madness.
At college I met this guy who exuded peace and joy. When he smiled, his eyes became two little squinty lines and all you saw was the grin. I didn’t know it at the time, but I became the pet prayer project for him and his dormitory Bible study group. The guys told the girls’ Bible study downstairs about me. Over a two year period, try as I might, I could not shake these people. They were everywhere I went, and they were always happy to see me, like I was somehow special to them. They always offered to help me with my homework, or fix my bicycle, or carry something for me, or go fetch something for me. They would sidle up to me and start friendly conversations. They would stop by my dorm room just to let me know that if I ever needed anything, they were there for me. They had troubles and challenges and personality quirks like everybody else. What made them stand out was that they seemed genuinely hopeful. They moved through life lightly and dealt with things gracefully rather than like people weighed down with dread and bitterness. They creeped me out and fascinated me at the same time. I would tell myself I’d have nothing to do with them and suddenly find myself surrounded by them in the dining commons or the library.
Their ringleader, the smiley one, drove a tiny Civic Honda. Since he was the only car owner amongst the group, eight people would squeeze in to that Honda to get off campus for some fun. When they invited me to brunch on Sunday mornings I should have known the car would stop at church because “it was on the way.” Oh, look, the service is just starting, what a coincidence! I thought I was safe when they invited me out on a Friday night to the movies. We ended up at some warehouse showing of “The Jesus Film.” All the way home I’m sobbing uncontrollably while seven other people compressed into the car are serenely silent and tactfully passing me tissues.
Ever watch a border collie responding to the clicks and whistles of the farmer to move a herd of sheep from point A to point B? They make the sheep go where the farmer wants by every means available to a canine: physical presence, barks, and even growls. If the ewe is stubborn there might even need to be a nip here and there. From the sheep’s point of view it’s harassment but from the farmer’s point of view it’s about getting that sheep where it needs to be in order for it to thrive.
As a child, all I knew of what Christians believed was cobbled together from Christmas television specials and the “Davey and Goliath” children’s television shows on Sunday morning. I suppose that makes Goliath my first hound of heaven. I had a friend in High School that took me to a church production of Joseph and His Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat. Performing in that play was a future boyfriend whose mother would try to introduce me to Advent and saying table grace while holding hands. Years later when I joined Bible Study Fellowship I discovered that she had been a BSF leader at the time I knew her. These seemingly coincidental encounters were, for me, glimpses of the sheepdogs darting behind the rocks and moving me by avoidance down broad paths. But there is nothing random or coincidental about how God woos the people He has created. We just miss the method because we’re lost in our madness.
At college I met this guy who exuded peace and joy. When he smiled, his eyes became two little squinty lines and all you saw was the grin. I didn’t know it at the time, but I became the pet prayer project for him and his dormitory Bible study group. The guys told the girls’ Bible study downstairs about me. Over a two year period, try as I might, I could not shake these people. They were everywhere I went, and they were always happy to see me, like I was somehow special to them. They always offered to help me with my homework, or fix my bicycle, or carry something for me, or go fetch something for me. They would sidle up to me and start friendly conversations. They would stop by my dorm room just to let me know that if I ever needed anything, they were there for me. They had troubles and challenges and personality quirks like everybody else. What made them stand out was that they seemed genuinely hopeful. They moved through life lightly and dealt with things gracefully rather than like people weighed down with dread and bitterness. They creeped me out and fascinated me at the same time. I would tell myself I’d have nothing to do with them and suddenly find myself surrounded by them in the dining commons or the library.
Their ringleader, the smiley one, drove a tiny Civic Honda. Since he was the only car owner amongst the group, eight people would squeeze in to that Honda to get off campus for some fun. When they invited me to brunch on Sunday mornings I should have known the car would stop at church because “it was on the way.” Oh, look, the service is just starting, what a coincidence! I thought I was safe when they invited me out on a Friday night to the movies. We ended up at some warehouse showing of “The Jesus Film.” All the way home I’m sobbing uncontrollably while seven other people compressed into the car are serenely silent and tactfully passing me tissues.
My heavenly hounds’ persistence paid off. Two and a half years of Christ-inspired behavior on their part led me inexorably to my own relationship with Jesus who had given them His compassion towards me. Twenty-nine years later I’m still in touch with a few of those faithful sheepdogs who refused to let me wander off into my own willfulness. I married the Honda driver and our children give us squinty grins. But here’s to those who stalked and yipped and got the occasional kick in the chops for their troubles. I may not get to thank some of them this side of heaven but I am grateful that they surrounded me with prayer and came alongside to guide me with their friendship. And now the one they guided me to communicates His signals in His own subtle ways. It is time for this old dog to get back to work.
Hi. I found your blog by following links. What a great testimony. Your statement, "I think all genuine Jesus followers are the miraculous proof of life," really hits the nail on the head. Thanks for this post.
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