“I don’t think soul winning is my calling, Mr. Davis,” Thomas Mason announced, as he walked alongside his spiritual partner on a warm Saturday morning in Katesville, Illinois. “I’ve yet to even get one person to listen to me past my initial hello.”
Aaron Davis planted a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder and the two men faced each other, standing still on the sidewalk, in front of a recently remodeled ranch home. The two Baptists, dressed in neatly pressed brown suits with the backdrop of a well manicured lawn and landscaping, almost resembled a Norman Rockwell painting. “Tom, the Lord’s called on a lot of us to do things we just don’t think we’re cut out to do. We might have to knock on a lot of doors to find success. Concentrate on being bold, concise, and sincere, and I promise you’ll see hearts open right before your very eyes.”
“No offense, but we’ve been at this for three weekends, and all I’ve seen is my finger smashed in a doorway, three different people scream at the top of their lungs for us to get off their property, and your nose being rearranged by a guy that looked like a professional wrestler,” Thomas countered. “Not one person has even let us get to John 3:16.”
“Okay, three more houses,” Aaron announced in a conciliatory manner. “Give it three more houses. If by the third house, the Lord doesn’t give you some type of a spiritual boost, we’ll find another area of church work where you can find more sense of accomplishment.”
“Agreed,” Thomas replied, feeling some of the pressure to succeed dissolve from his mind.
At the next house, no one answered the door. The men knocked twice and started to walk away. Something told Thomas Mason to turn back. Knock again a soft voice spoke to his heart. “Hold on, I want to knock again.” He knocked again, tried the doorbell, and then knocked one more time. No one came to the door.
The two men began to once again walk away. Then they heard the door lock unlatch. The two men turned back and looked at the door. Slowly the door opened. To their horror, a girl, possibly sixteen or younger and wearing jeans and a blouse covered with blood appeared in the doorway. Following the crimson stains, the two men could see that the girl had slit both of her wrists.
Thomas quickly ripped the sleeves off of his suit coat and began tying them around the girl’s wounds to stop the bleeding. Aaron used his cell phone to call for an ambulance and then helped Thomas keep the girl’s arms elevated in order to control the bleeding. It was only a few minutes before the two men could hear the ambulance’s siren.
Thomas heard the girl whispering something over and over again as he caressed her hair and told her help was on the way. He leaned in to hear her weak voice. “I was so close. I wanted out. I just wanted out.”
Without thinking, Thomas instinctively asked her, “Why? Why do you want out?”
In a faint whisper she uttered, “Nobody loves me. Nobody has ever loved me.”
As the paramedics entered the house, Thomas whispered to the girl, “That’s not true. Someone does love you. He loves you so much that he made sure someone was here to tell you that.”
She gently squeezed his hand, and her eyes told him that he just might be cut out for this soul winning thing after all.
As the two Baptists helped the paramedics put the girl to the ambulance, Aaron looked over at Thomas and said, “Now that’s what I call bold, concise, and sincere.”
“She wants you to ride along with her to the hospital,” the ambulance driver said, pointing to Thomas.
Hopping into the ambulance, Thomas said a silent prayer of thanks for the opportunity to be an ambassador for Jesus and the chance to tell this young lady about the most amazing love story ever told – the story of John 3:16. He would tell her that someone has always loved her, someone she needed to hear all about.
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