Thursday, November 15, 2007

Fishers of Men

A couple of years ago I was on a walk around the block with the kids and a rattling, maroon mini van pulled up along side me, a man with third day wiskers leaned out and asked, "Do you live around here?" I was a little skeptical of this man and his vehicle, but I told him, yes, we lived around the corner. He said he had just moved into the house two doors down from us and his son would love to play with my kids.
So began a friendship with Todd and Erin. I found out that Erin was a Christian, and that Todd had never been to church. We hung out. Our kids played. We trekked a path between our houses. We invited them to our church. They came. Even Todd.
I guess we planted a seed of truth. We didn't mean to, really. We were just ourselves, living next to our friends. Talking, eating and laughing. Somehow, Todd saw God in us.
I prayed for Todd. Maybe Robb did too. We saw small changes in him. He started to listen to Christian radio. He came to church. And this fall, a relative invited he and his brother to go on a Christian fishing retreat. They went, and even though Todd was a bit skeptical of the retreat element, at least he was going fishing on Lake Vermillion!
As it turns out, he not only got to go fishing with a famous guide, he and his brother got caught: by the love and grace of a good God. And you know what's funny? The fishing stunk, and they didn't even care!

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