I have now realized that my timing is not always the best. Usually if I’m thinking it, I say it. Please don’t get me wrong. I don’t mean to portray that I am offensive. Sometimes I wish I just thought a little longer before I began talking.

The other night I came home late from a football game. Instead of waiting for my parents to regain consciousness from their deep sleep, I just started telling them about my night. They told me to “stop yelling,” and I told them to “talk louder.” Since they had been asleep, and I had been at a football game, we were on very different volume levels. So within a very short time, the conversation was no longer pleasant and the sweet family moment ruined. It was all because of my bad timing. If I had waited to tell them after they had woken up or even the next morning, everything would have been much more pleasant for everyone!

I did not take into account where my parents had been. They had been in a silent room asleep, and I still hadn’t calmed down from the exciting game. If I had tried to meet them where they were, then I would have been able to communicate with them much better. Instead, I tried to speak to them from where I was, which was way too strong for them. I should have spoken in a gentle, light voice, because they would have received my words better!

Timing is everything. The world often reacts to the gospel in the same way my parents reacted to my words that night. The world often shuts us down when we try to share the gospel, but it is usually because of how WE present it! If we can meet people where they are, and speak to them in a loving, personal way, our words will be received much better! I pray that from now on we can discern where people are and minister to them in the times they are most receptive.

I loathe airplanes. This in no way stems from a “fear of flying” or any other such thing, but rather to the inevitable massacre of my “personal bubble.” Without fail, I end up sitting in row 153, middle seat, between Buddha and Santa Claus (who might as well pay half of my seat ticket). Last summer, staring a nine-hour return flight from England in the face, I vowed to have an enjoyable and relaxing trip … but then my sister Carrie plopped down beside me.

The older modeled plane, yet to install personal TVs in the seat in front of each passenger, merely provided a large “community TV” mounted in front. I settled into my row one aisle seat. Reaching up, I adjusted my AC to gently bathe me in cool air. Life is good …

An hour later, while peacefully enjoying the in-flight movie, something happened. Without warning, Carrie’s arm burst through my “bubble,” entering enemy territory, and closed my AC. “I’m cold Dan; keep it off … ”Oh no she doesn’t! Refusing to be pushed around by my little sister, I defiantly turned it back on … all-out war erupted.

Her left hand shot out like a missile, only to be intercepted by my right. Her right hand flanked east to reinforce, but was quickly thwarted, as my left hand sneak attacked from above. Realizing her troops were losing ground, Carrie shamelessly tossed out the “Rules of War” and sunk in her nails!

Wincing, I released a desperate battle cry: “Whatever the cost may be! We shall fight on the beaches! We shall fight in the hills! … ”

The sound of skin slapping skin echoed throughout the plane as I brought my artillery down upon her hands. Her troops entered a full-blown retreat. Victory is within my grasp! Then I felt a rough tap on my shoulder.

I turned to face a gruff-looking man (undoubtedly flying to a Hell’s Angels convention). “Do you mind!?” he barked out.

Gulping, we looked behind us into the faces of dozens of unimpressed passengers who had just had the film’s climax interrupted by our hands duelling directly in front of the TV screen.

Whether we are always aware or not, Christians live in a world where our every action is kept under careful surveillance. The world anxiously waits for every mistake or poor choice we commit, using those moments to unjustly discredit our God.

If my own life is an indication, there’s no way of avoiding mistakes. It’s just human nature. The Bible says, “For all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God” (Rom. 3:23). I used to be angry about this issue. I hated being unfairly pounced on for every failure.

Lately, however, God has been revealing this to me in new light. The world is already watching my every move; I don’t need flashing lights or to beg for attention. What an amazing opportunity to let the difference of Christ shine through my life for them to witness! I encourage you to not merely live in the fear of “blowing it,” but to allow your life to be a powerful witness to our living God, because you never know who might be watching. Jesus urged: “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven” (Matt. 5:16).

Growing up, I was fortunate enough to live in a cozy neighborhood with lots of kids, a nearby sledding hill, and a pond a few feet from my house. When I was in the first grade, I received my first fishing pole – a pink Power Rangers pole with an emblem of the pink Power Ranger. While I hated pink, I loved Power Rangers. Although I wasn’t able to watch the program very much, I found myself sneaking in Power Rangers episodes at my cousins’ house. Needless to say, I was super excited about fishing with the skill of a Power Ranger, even if she was pink.

I have heard that most children learn to fish using worms but I learned to fish with corn. That’s right – frozen corn did the trick. We caught bluegill by the dozen in our little pond with the Green Giant special – fresh from the freezer. Then we’d throw the fish back and catch them again. (So if ever you are having a bad bit of luck with the fish, try some frozen corn for a change.)

Somewhere along the lines, my Sunday School material began to correlate with my Saturday afternoon activities. We started learning about what it meant to be fishers of men. We also learned a catchy tune about Jesus making His disciples fishers of men. I confess I must have had a hard time imagining hooks in the mouths of all these men someone apparently caught for Christ. In fact, it was somewhat of a gruesome image, especially when I imagined someone like my granddaddy using pliers when the hook wouldn’t come out of their mouths. I was relieved when my overactive imagination was put to rest with the realization that being “fishers of men” was a figurative illustration of ministering to people and spreading the Gospel of Christ.

As I grew mentally and spiritually, I was able to see that becoming “fishers of men” is not so much a nice addition to the lives of some Christians, but the responsibility of all Christians. I am called to witness and minister to others and by “fishing for men” I am called to make a sincere effort to recruit and train people to live for Christ. However, sometimes I find myself getting so caught up on the responsibility/ritualistic aspect of Christianity that I forget the purpose of my endeavors is to glorify Christ! I should want to tell others about Christ because I am so excited about what He has done for me. He DIED and suffered so that I can be eternally free! He bought me and loves me and that is the point of my sharing with others.

Too often I catch myself keeping to myself and not ministering to those around me. I get caught up in my reality and daily tasks and fail to realize the power and priority of spiritual hope not only for me but for all those around me. Our God is big and great and mighty to save, and I must remember His glory as I go out and minister making others fishers of men.

Come, follow me,” Jesus said, “and I will make you fishers of men. Mark 1:17

In my attempt to be accepted and admired, I had made many changes in my life: I switched my clarinet for a set of drums; I replaced my mushroom haircut with a “spikier” one; I started buying jeans instead of sweat pants; and I traded in my Star Wars books for…uh…harder-to-read Star Wars books.

I thought I had tried everything, but still the ladies took no notice of me! I thought I had run out of options when I got an idea…an awful idea…I got a wonderful, awful idea! I would dye my hair! The best way to get girls to notice me was to drastically change my appearance! But not just any careless moderation of the tresses would do. My hairdresser worked her magic, and when she spun my chair around, I gazed at the masterpiece she had created. The sides and back were my natural brown, the top was bleached blonde and the bangs in front were a bright fire-engine red. It was perfect! However, the room in the hairdresser’s studio was rather dark, and when I stepped into the light I realize that it was not so much red as…oh please no…PINK! I HAD PINK HAIR!

Horror struck me as I realized I had to face my classmates in less than 15 hours. In desperation, I called my cousin Anita and made her buy every hair dying kit she could find and rush to my rescue. We decided to bleach the pink out and leave the top blonde, but after five different attempts to strip the color from my locks, the pink was still visible. To make matters worse, somehow word made it to my school before I did, and I had been dubbed “Mike Pinkaby.” On the bright side, people DEFINITELY noticed me the next day.

As Christians, do people notice us? Do we stand out in a crowd? If so, is it positive recognition? The sad reality is most Christians are known for what they don’t do rather than what they do; people know what they are against but have no idea what they are for. Matthew 5:16 says, “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven.” When people look at me, I want them to see Jesus. I want everything I do to point towards the God who saved me. I don’t want people to notice me; I want them to see God. God is the light in our lives, but how bright is that light shining?

Have you ever had opportunities to see different parts of the world? I’ve been fortunate to have experienced many different cultures. I’ve stood in the shadows of the Athenian Parthenon, gazed down from the Eiffel tower, sailed the Amazon River, and safaried into the African wilderness. But all these amazing places have had one thing in common: hopelessness. Ever seen the slums? If so, you can relate that they break your heart. I’m always filled with conviction, “I need to do something!” I long to rush out and start making a difference. However, God has been convicting me lately of the question, “Who has the power to change this world?”

The disciples had a similar experience. In their day Christianity didn’t exist yet, the Gospel message had never been preached, and Jesus had just been crucified. Talk about a hopeless world! However, Jesus rose from the dead and reappeared among them. They were stoked! I’m sure they wanted to run outside and start saving souls! I envision the scene like my New England Patriots, right before the Super Bowl. All the disciples hollering and cheering, high-fives all around, Peter and John bumping chests, with loud 15 AD Israelian pump-up music blaring.

But Jesus told them, “Wait” (Acts 1: 4-8). Can’t you picture Peter, “Um, Jesus. Sure you’re thinking straight? I mean, you did just like rise from the dead and everything, must have been a pretty trippy experience. There’s a whole world out there that needs our help.” Yet Jesus told them again to be patient.

Seems odd doesn’t it? After all, these men had dropped everything to follow him and faithfully listened to his teachings for almost four years. If anyone in the world was capable for this task, it was this group of men. So why wait?

It’s because, as Jesus knew, without the Holy Spirit they possessed no power at all to change lives. Didn’t matter how qualified they were or how noble their intentions; only the power of God in them would make a difference. And it did. After they spent time in prayer, they received the Holy Spirit and three thousand were saved during the first sermon alone! (Talk about making up for lost time!)

I have to ask myself, what do you think that means for us today? I think we often get distracted by the need, and forget the source of power. I’ve grown up in a strong Christian family, attending church regularly. I know Sunday School answers like multiplication flashcards (ok, bad example…) and feel I’m pretty qualified to make a difference. Intentions are good, I’m doing it for God, but I often leave him out of the planning. Are we trying to reach people for Christ? Are we spending quality time in prayer and in our Bible, asking God what His plan is, and allowing Him to guide us? I’ve been encouraged not to rely on my own flesh; it’s weak (Phil 3:3) and not to forget that only the power of Jesus IN us can change this world.

But you shall receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you shall be witnesses to Me in Jerusalem, and in Judea and Samaria, and to the end of the Earth. Acts 1:8

“Open your eyes and look at the fields, for they are ready for harvest.” John 4:35

On Saturday, our church helped to sort donations at a local ministry that serves homeless women and their children. As I emptied a packed room that had a jumbled mixture of treasures and trash stacked from the floor to the ceiling, I commented that I couldn’t believe so many people had donated damaged or stained items. Miss Liz, the founder of the ministry, smiled wryly and responded that one person’s junk is another person’s treasure. Grunting my less-than-hearty affirmation, I just kept sorting, but her words stuck in my head, and I started to think about the deeper truth of her statement. We do tend to see whatever it is that we are looking for. Miss Liz is a perfect example of this truth herself. You see, she finds homeless people. She tells story after story of times when she was driving down a road and noticed a mother and her children huddled under a bridge or when she stopped for gas but instead ended up helping another young family who had no place to sleep that night. She has eyes that see what she is looking for, and she is looking for homeless people.

Her gift for seeing has caused me to wonder what it is that I am looking for. Right now, I am taking a class called Personal Evangelism so I have become much more aware of the need to witness to those who are without hope. I have also learned that my life has become very Christian-centric. Most of my friends are Christians. My immediate family members are Christians. I go from my Christian home to my Christian church and back again without seeing the many people all around me who are destined to perish without a Savior. Where are my opportunities to share the hope that is within me? To my shame, my eyes have been closed, and much of my part in gathering the harvest has been going undone.

The disciples were not very different. They were busy getting food for their little group of Christ-followers, and when they arrived at the well where Jesus sat, their eyes were closed to the encounter that had just taken place with the Samaritan woman. After all, she was just a woman and a Samaritan woman at that. She wasn’t even on their radar. They were amazed to see Jesus talking to her, but they brushed it aside and asked Him if He wanted something to eat. They didn’t even see what was right in front of them; but, Jesus opened their eyes. He told them to look around and see that the harvest was ready to be gathered in. Immediately, many Samaritans came to ask Jesus to stay with them longer, and they too believed and were saved. The harvest had begun.

Like the people of Jesus’ day, our hearts have grown callous, our ears are hard of hearing, and we have shut our eyes because to feel, to hear, and to see means we have to respond. We need Jesus to open our eyes to those around us who need Him just as badly as we do. “Open your eyes and look at the fields, for they are ready for harvest.” Really … what are you looking for?

Sometimes the truth hurts, Lord. I am ashamed that I have not even seen the harvest of souls that is taking place all around me. Please, open the eyes of my heart and cause me to see people as you see them. Remind me what I should be looking for and use me to gather in your harvest. In Jesus’ name, I pray. Amen.