 A few days ago, I was talking with a friend, and he asked me how I was. I shared about how life was okay but still strange and different. When he asked why, I shared about how fast-paced the missions trip was and how different it was here. Our conversation went something like this:
I said, "You know, when you're doing something you love and then come home...it's just different." He responded, "Oh, what do you love doing?" "I love sharing the gospel." I smiled. "Okay, share the gospel with me." He looked up at me from the pool. "Actually, sing it, so I can listen!" I glanced back at him. "Um, okay!" Thank you, God, I thought. An opportunity to share the gospel! Yay! And then I froze up. Where did the gospel start? At the beginning of time, at the beginning of Jesus' life on earth? I could probably eventually figure it out in words, but singing it was way harder. What he said next, though, really hit me.
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