I almost lost my big toe. Want to hear about it?
Well, I'm going to tell you anyway. It all started with a car jacking. My car. Getting jacked. Or so I thought. I usually get a cup of coffee on the way to work each morning. I had to find a place that is open before 6:00 a.m. to get it but I have found just such a place. It is not far out of the way of my normal drive to work but it is in kind of a rough part of town. Well, a few days before Christmas, I pulled into a parking lot at this store and I was met by a big dude with a big gun pointed right at my face. He told me to get out of the car and walk behind the store. I went. Scared to death. When we got back there, he placed the barrel directly above my nose and between my eyes.
I said nervously, "You can have my wallet and...and my car." He replied through clenched teeth, "I don't want your (bad word) wallet."
I recognized this guy. I had actually seen him a few times at our church. I believe that I actually spoke to Him a time or two but couldn't remember his name. For the sake of this story and because of that big ole gun he was pointing at my face, we'll call him Dirty Harry.
I asked Dirty Harry, "Well then what do you want?" He then said words that shocked me, "I want you to deny Christ."
"What? What do you mean?" I stuttered. "You know exactly what I mean," he hissed. "I want you to look straight into my eyes and say that you don't believe in Jesus Christ. If you don't, I am going to put a bullet in your brain."
I closed my eyes. I prayed silently, "Lord help me. I can't do what he's asking. GIVE ME STRENGTH!" Suddenly a calmness came over me and with my eyes still closed, I saw a quick vision of a flame and a viciously beaten, unrecognizable and bloody mess of a man on a cross. Don't know what that was but I was suddenly ready. I slowly opened my eyes. My eyes found his and I said very clearly and confidently, "Jesus Christ is the Son of God and He is the Savior of the World."
He suddenly grabbed me by the back of the neck and whispered angrily in my ear,"Don't give me that crap. Open your mouth." Didn't know what that meant but figured he wanted me to open my mouth and say the words he had commanded. When he let go of my neck and stood back in front of me, he pointed the gun between my feet and fired. It was a deafening roar that echoed through the quiet parking lot. It scared me to death and left about a six inch wide hole in the ground, just about an inch from the bottom of my big toe.
I looked down at the hole and saw it suddenly fill with a slightly foamy, clear liquid. I suddenly realized that I had wet my pants. My legs then buckled and I guess I began to faint but this big man grabbed my shirt, along with a few chest hairs and pushed me hard against the wall. He then repeated his request, "Open your mouth." I did and he put the gun barrel in my mouth. I felt it, or I actually felt the gun sight at the front tip of the barrel, push hard into the back/top of my mouth. I actually heard it bang against my "molars" or whatever you call the teeth towards the back. He then said, "You get one more chance. Are you gonna deny Him, yes or no?" Weakly but surely, I shook my head no. I then closed my eyes, silently asked the Lord to take care of my family and waited for an explosion and then, death.
Suddenly, he pulled the gun out of my mouth, let go of my shirt and backed a step or two away. Then, in his normal voice he said, "Mr. Smith, I am terribly sorry but I want to talk to someone about Jesus and I have heard a lot of Bull(squat) talk from a lot of bull(squat) religious people and this time I had to be sure that I was talking to a true believer. Would you PLEASE forgive me and talk to me about Him?"
I stood there and blinked at him a few times. I then took one quick step forward and then kicked him in his forbidden zone with the tip of my steel-toed work boot. As he doubled over from the intense pain and let out a loud cry, I hit him with a vicious right cross that landed about halfway between his left ear and the tip of his chin. He and the gun hit the ground hard. I then jumped over his body, standing with one foot on either side of his head. I then bent down and began lightly slapping his face, because he was a little woozy from the punch. I said, "Hey. HEY!! You dumb jerk. Can you hear me?" He shook his head yes. I then said, "I've got to go home and change my pants and I am already late for work because of your dumb little trick. But if you really want to talk, meet me at 5:00 at the Old Dunkin' Donuts. I'm not gonna tell the cops about this unless you don't show. Hear me? Do you UNDERSTAND what I just said!?
He managed to whisper a very painful "Yes sir, thank you."
So I left him there. I ran to the car and headed home. On the way, it suddenly hit me that I had not denied my Savior in what I knew would be the worst moment of my entire life. I fell apart. I had to pull over into the Sonic parking lot in the pitch black dark so as not to endanger the other drivers on the road. I then proceeded to have a big, fat Cry/Praise-a-thon. Glorious!!
I want tell you any more but I will tell you that Dirty Harry received Christ that day at about, Ohhh, 6:20 PM while drinking coffee and eating nasty donuts with a true Christian whose authenticity he had tested himself.
And one more thing I will tell you and that is that, of course, this story is not true.
Tomorrow we will begin Chapter 13 and that is the chapter in which Jesus tells Peter that he will deny him three times. We kind of give ole Pete a hard time about that sometimes but I really believe that if Peter had been "Me" in the above story, he would not have denied Christ either. After all, just maybe an hour or so before he denied Christ three times, when the guards first came to arrest Jesus, Peter pulled a sword and sliced off the ear of one of the guards. He would have kept swinging that sword too, if Jesus hadn't stopped him. But later in the night, while Jesus was inside being interrogated by the religious officers, Peter snuck into the outside courtyard to try and see if he could hear what was going on inside. He was straining to hear without revealing his interest, he was fretting over Jesus and what might happen to Him and was caught off guard when He was first asked, "Aren't you one of His?"
After the first denial, the next two came in quick succession. Immediately the cock crowed and Jesus suddenly turned His head away from His accusers and looked at His beloved friend. Both of their hearts were broken. Jesus then headed to the cross and Peter headed to the countryside alone to experience heartbreak that I can't even imagine.
I'd like to tell you another, much more believable, personal story. It won't be long at all. I promise.
Today I woke up in a bad mood. Something set me off and I yelled at my wife. I stopped to get my coffee on the way to work and flirted with Miss Prettylittlething at check out because she was wearing a plunging neckline thingy. Hey, I'm a man. I couldn't resist. I thought about her the first hour of work and told one of my work buddies about her. He said he knew some delicious stories about her. He told me a few and I gobbled them up. That led to a few sly little sex jokes that I laughed uproariously at even when the boy whose salvation I had been praying for, walked up. He joined the fun with a few jokes of his own. Pretty funny stuff really.
Then during the rest of the day, with all this talking and laughing during work, I realized that I had made a few bad parts on my machine. I make thousands of these parts a day, so I knew that I could hide the bad parts with the good and nobody would ever know. Problem solved. Then at lunch, I felt guilty about yelling at my wife, so I called her to apologize. But her attitude didn't seem to lighten much after my apology, so I ended up hanging up on her. The weekends are when me and her have our "ALONE" time with each other if you get my drift. That's the real reason I had tried to apologize anyway. Now I even messed that up and would experience a somewhat different meaning of "alone."
When I got home that evening, the phone rang and Cheryl answered it. She then came into the room I was in and whispered to me that Mr. Bob Somewhatcranky was on the line from the church wanting to know if He could take me out to dinner to discuss some church issues. I whispered back to her that she should tell him that I wasn't home and you didn't know when I would be home and that my cell phone was broke and that I had an emergency at work that might last all night or maybe even all weekend and not to ride by work to see me because even though my car wasn't at work, I was and I was too busy to stop and talk to him for even one second. But also be sure to tell him how I will be so upset when I find out that I missed his call. She did it, too. She told a little, teeny, white lie for me. God bless her.
I then walked into my study and found myself staring at my Bible...again. This time it actually spoke to me. It said, "You know I am the Word of Almighty God, right?" I went over and wrote on the Bible with my finger, you know the way you write on a dusty car windshield that hasn't been touched in a while. On my Bible, I wrote on the dusty leather book cover the words "Soon Lord" and I actually believed it. It made me feel much better, too.
That night I stayed up late after everyone else went to bed and found myself surfing through some of the "Bad" channels. Not to see any nekkidness(that means naked, yankee), mind you. Just looking for a decent movie. But dang wouldn't you know, Angelina Jolie suddenly passed by and she was nekkid. I kept going but then it suddenly hit me that my wife was not real happy with me so I probably "deserved" to see a little bit of nekkidicity. After all, I'm only human and a MAN human at that. I couldn't resist.
So let's see, Peter denied Jesus 3 times on his worst day. I denied him what, 12-15-20 times and it was just a normal, average, nothing special day.
Only one thing in either of these "stories" about "me" is true and that is:
"Dirty Harry" IS looking for a true Christian to talk to.