
I’m upstairs, sitting at the computer, wondering what my next sentence will be, when my concentration is interrupted by a sound. “Ding dong! Ding Dong!”
I trot downstairs and open the door. There standing on the front porch are two clean-cut men, wearing white shirts, ties and black slacks, with black name cards over their hearts. They smile, showing their white teeth.
Before they are able to speak, I say, “Where have you been, I’ve been waiting for you, come on in.”
Both of them blink their eyes and look at each other, but they do not budge an inch. “What?” they exclaim in unison.
I smile and nod. “Aren’t you missionaries?” I say, pointing at their name cards. “So, I assume you want to talk about Jesus and pray for me, right? I sure could use some good prayers. Who knows? Maybe, you’re the answer to my prayers.”
“You need prayer?” one of them finally says.
“Yes, come in, and sit down,” I say, pointing toward the sofa. They finally decide to come in and sit next to each other on the sofa. I sit across from them on the loveseat.
Introductions are made all around. One of them, Elder John, gives a quick sales pitch on the Church of the Latter Day Saints. The other, Elder James, nods in agreement as the first speaks.
As soon as there is a break in the conversation, I interrupt. “Hey, tell me your testimonies, okay? I love hearing about the how, when, where and why people decide to give their lives to Jesus and serve their churches.”
This is the Super Bowl and World Series wrapped into one perfect package for them. They eagerly relate their stories. I listen and ask questions because I truly care about them.
Both were born and raised in the Mormon church. Each was a freshman in college and decided to take a two year missionary tour before continuing on with their college education.
When they finish, I ask, “Do you want to hear my testimony?”
And of course, they politely say, “Yes.”
I tell them my testimony. They, too, listen and ask questions.
As our time together nears an end, I say, “Okay, I need your prayers. So, pray for me.”
We hold hands and each offers a general prayer for me. Afterward, I add, “Why don’t I pray for you?” They nod their heads.
Then, I open my mouth, believing the Holy Spirit will fill it with His words. Sometimes, I have powerful words of knowledge for each of them. Sometimes, I have prophecies for them. But no matter what the Holy Spirit gives me, it always encourages them.
And every time, a missionary twosome – whether they are Mormons or Jehovah Witnesses – leaves my home, they invite me to attend their churches. Usually, they say something like this: “You’d fit into our church; everyone will be happy to meet you.”
…I have become all things to all men, so that I may by all means save some. (1 Corinthians 9:22)