handing out hope.

Today, for the first time ever, I wanted to tell someone about Christ.

I know that sounds strange--shouldn't I have wanted to tell people about Christ a long time ago? Regardless...

I usually hear phrases like "share Christ" or "witness" as creepy and analogous to "evangelizing" or "proselytizing"--both of which are dirty words in the world from which I come. My best friend says that she's fine with Christians, as long as they don't try to convince her of their beliefs. For example.

But my impulse wasn't creepy. I was sitting with a student as she told me of some of what she was struggling with, and she just seemed so lost and hopeless and broken. I suddenly found myself wanting to just put my arms around her and tell her that there is a God who loves her more than she can imagine. That no matter how bad things seem, and regardless of whether she passes or fails my class--God loves her. He loves her, and He desperately wants her, and He has plans for her life. I wanted to tell her of how fascinating and wonderful the story of Christ really is, and to talk with her about what it means that God would come in flesh to live amongst men. Then what it means that He would die. I wanted to share with her some of my excitement about stuff in the Old Testament, and how it tells us of who God is, and what we can expect from a life with Him. I wanted to give her hope.

Of course, I couldn't share any of that. She's my student. I am an instructor employed by the university. But I prayed as I talked with her that God would do something crazy-supernatural in her life to show her truth, and steep her in love.

In the mean time, I was blown away by my own response to her sense of hopelessness. Inherent in my desire to tell her about God is a deep-seated belief in Him as the ground for all that is good and necessary for hope. I believe. The intensity of my desire to share with her took me by surprise. Wonderful, and terrifying.

Such is faith.