It was nearly time for the evangelistic meeting to begin when I hurried outside
to plug in the floodlights that illuminated the sign on the front lawn. But
something was definitely wrong: the lights wouldn’t come on! I played with the
extension cord and reset the circuit breaker, but nothing happened. “Maybe the
plug had come lose from the extension cord,” I muttered, following the cord
across the lawn. But I arrived at the sign to find that there was nothing at the
end of the cord! Someone had stolen the floodlights.
From the very beginning of the series of meetings, we had experienced setback
after setback. Though hours had been spent on advertisement, very few people
actually attended. We discovered, too late, that the meetings were being
broadcast at a different time than we had announced, and the 2nd VCR we needed
to rectify the problem was broken. The family all got the stomach flu just days
before the meetings were to begin, and now, our lights were stolen! I went up to
my room and cried out to God: “Why would anyone care if we’re hosting
evangelistic meetings? Why are so few interested in learning about You? What are
we doing wrong?”
Suddenly I could see a super highway stretched out below me. It was crowded with
expressionless people, all pushing and shoving their way blindly forward. My
eyes traveled up the highway, and what I saw caused me to gasp in horror: The
highway ended abruptly at the edge of a cliff, and when the people arrived at
the end, they were pushed over the edge!
A few people ran up and down the edge of the crowd, shouting, “The road you are
on leads to destruction! Follow Jesus and you will be saved! Jesus is the better
way! Jesus loves you!” But their efforts were ignored. The faces in the crowd
remained blank, and the people continued to be pushed over the edge of the
cliff.
“Is there nothing that can be done?” I cried. “Will none of them be saved?” But
the answer that was impressed upon my mind was depressing: Everything was being
done for these people. Theirs was the freedom of choice!
Then my gaze was directed to a woman in the crowd. She cocked her ear towards
those on the sidelines, then she began to make her way towards the edge of the
road until she finally broke free. As I watched, a few others followed her to
safety, and my heart rejoiced. But the blank faces of the hordes that continued
to ignore the warning haunted me. “What does it all mean?” I wailed. “What can
be done to stop this tide of people from running straight for destruction?”
The answer resounded in my ear: “Many are called, but few are chosen” (Matt
22:14). “Sow your seed in the morning, and at evening let not your hands be
idle, for you do not know which will succeed, whether this or that, or whether
both will do equally well” (Eccl 11:6).
As the super highway faded, I began to understand. I was to put forth my best
efforts, no matter what the response. I may not always understand God’s way. I
may not even know when or how, or even “if” the seeds I sow will take root. My
only responsibility is to keep trying my best, for I may never know when my
words or my actions touch the heart of another.
Lord, may I do everything in my power to stop the tide of evil that drives
people to sure destruction, and may I not get discouraged when it seems that all
of my efforts fail!
Lyn Chaffart
The Illustrator: This daily newsletter is dedicated to encouraging
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The Nugget: Published three times a week, this newsletter features inspirational devotionals and mini-sermons dedicated to drawing mankind closer to each other and to Christ.