I have to be honest. I don’t know what I’m doing here. Really. I shouldn’t be a Christian. I don’t belong here with you.
Yet here I am. I had nothing to offer, no plan, and empty pockets. I was brought here vulnerable, confused, dazed and humbled. But no longer lost and without purpose. I was broken to save my life and to help save the lives of others.
I do need to tell you that you are the Christian I once condemned and ridiculed. I’m sorry about that, but, well to be honest, some of that was your fault too.
You couldn’t give me an answer. Not just a little answer. Always something about faith. Faith is a false prophet for many of those living on the other side. I was hungry for something else and you couldn’t feed me. Even though you had access to the objective truth I hungered for, subjective truth was all you had to offer.
So now that I am here with you maybe you’ll listen to my pleas for help. Pleas on behalf of all those I left behind who are like I once was.
I want you to know that you could have had me at 17. Or anywhere else along the line before it really happened at 46. I was ready to buy, to sign on the dotted line, to give my heart to Christ, but.
But you didn’t know your product. You were on the sales team, but you don’t know your stuff. You had what I was looking for! But you didn’t know it. So you didn’t make the sale and I walked away. Time after time I walked away.
Ok, you didn’t know. I get that. You live and learn. But you know it now. So I beg of you, please prepare for the next encounter with someone on the other side who hungers for the bread of life. This time serve it up on a plate of objective evidence and reason, not subjective faith.
Once they’ve had their fill they’ll see your faith is real. They will then trust and believe in faith, because it will reside in their hearts as it does yours. Christ will live in their hearts too. And they will tell you:
“I have to be honest. I don’t know what I’m doing here…”