Evangelism; A Noobie's Guide to Jesusing

It's been 5 months, 3 weeks and 4 days since I started this whole grand adventure up north in the boondocks of California, learning how to Jesus with Jesus while Jesusing for Jesus. Gosh, I love Jesus. What a stand up guy!

Anyway, as it should be expected for any bible school, evangelism in BSSM is a big deal. All year, we've been taught about how to love people like Jesus did which includes healthy communication and boundaries, healing, delivering, encouraging anyone of any sort and all the fancy toppings on an icecream cake (preferably Oreo-flavored).

In preparation for our mission's trip in April (my first one ever!), my Revival Group decided on having a time of outreach in our lil' o' city of Redding this last Monday. You see, Allison (aka myself) has never really felt all that prepared for outreach (which is just a comfortable word for Street Evangelism, right?). I could sit in the pews and be lectured all day about only needing a mustard seed of faith and knowing that the Holy Spirit is with me and recognizing that I am totally prepared for outreach--but let's be real: It doesn't mean anything unless you put it to the risk, I mean, test. 

So, idly skipping over a few minute details, I found myself in a team of four heading up to the second story of the local library in Redding. The location was chosen due to an abnormal amount of homeless people that normally gather there--and my teammates, being the fearless Jesusers they are, were ready for some serious outreach! I went without a fuss, although I wanted to hide behind the Marvel comics I found until it was all over.

But alas, the realization hit me that I (and several other people helped me THANKS!) paid $4,500 for this school and I wasn't going to simply read comics I could easily do for the rest of my life (rest assured, I will do this also). So I metaphorically rolled up my sleeves and gently approached an older woman reading a magazine. Oh God, how do I--what do I--Okay, yup, she's looking at me. I'm definitely in too deep now, there's no turning back; HERE WE GO--

"Hi there!" I said in my most intentional greetings.

"Hi?" She responded with utmost unintentions.

Que uncomfortable feelings.

"So..." I began, braving it straight to the point as gently as possible. "I was wondering if you'd like some company or prayer for anything?"

Immediately her face became hardened.

"Why? Who are you? What church sent you?" She immediately fired off a list of defensive questions.

It occurred to me then that...the reputation I believed Bethel had certainly wasn't the same reputation that several other people had. I gracefully danced around some of the questions, to which she immediately said, "No, I don't want company or prayer. Thanks but bye."

Ouchers.

If I were a dog, it'd be obvious I left with my tail between my legs. I had never experienced that sort of rejection before, but nonetheless, I honored her wishes.

I sat down next to one of my teammates who asked excitedly, "How did it go?"

"I got rejected," I managed to say. But I was fighting off tears like Spider-Man fighting off the Goblin. It's one thing to hear stories of rejection in ministry, and another to actually experience it. And if it weren't for my teammate saying what he said next, I would've been such a loser that day! AND SPIDER-MAN NEVER LOSES (so neither does Allison!).

So he said, "That's awesome!" And before I could retort, he explained how I still 'won' because I took a risk and approached the woman, and God can still work with that no matter with what outcome.

Dear teammate (you know who you are), you reminded me of the most important lesson we've ever learned about evangelism: that Jesus's love never quits. It always wins! You have taught me the most valuable lesson in the midst of the test. Thank you!

Anyway, so I sat there and processed this revelation for about 4 minutes, and then I punched Satan in the face like Captain America did with Hitler, and I went and tried again with someone else.

By the end of the day, I found and accompanied a unique teenage girl who opened up some very vulnerable parts of her life story with me, prayed for her sprained wrist to work again, prayed for her brain tissue disease thing to go away, prayed for her headaches to stop, became friends via social media and I ended up walking away more encouraged by her than I felt like I could've been for her.

You see, the guide to evangelizing/Jesusing consists of these 3 basic concepts, and with them, you'll never go wrong:

1) Love the person like Jesus would,
2) Honor the person like Jesus would,
3) And take risk, like Jesus would.

You don't need to shout for someone to hear you. You don't need to hear the audible voice of the Lord to approach someone. You don't need to come up with a flawless formula to lead someone to Christ. Just...love the person. Honor the person. And take a risk.

And it's because of a risk that this blog exists (rhyming, woo)! And that makes for a very fine life, ladies and gentlemen.

I'd Rather Be the Knight

Ever since I was a wee little laddy, I was different. Different as in...No, I will not wear a dress. No, I will not be a ballet dancer. No, I will not put on lipstick. I wasted no time drawing a line between what the world called feminine and what I called it, starting at the age of four. It should be no surprise that my mom had quite the journey discovering what kind of daughter she gave birth to (my formal condolences, Mother).

I fell in love with dragons probably around the age of six and never once owned a Barbie Doll (except for the time I tied one to some fireworks on the 4th of July). Instead, I played with toy dragons and dinosaurs. Whenever my friends wanted to play House in elementary school, I would always be the dog. Who the heck wanted to be the mom? Or a baby? No. Dog. I want Dog or I'm out.

There's one vivid memory I have as a child, probably around seven years old. My dad drove a semi-truck back then, so he would sometimes let the family join in on the traveling fun. His truck had one of those beds in the back (which felt more like a castle to me and my two brothers). For whatever reason, these said brothers decided they didn't need to wear their shirts. I don't know if they felt stuffy or if they wanted to wear half of their birthday suits, but I wanted in.

"No!" They denied me. "You're a girl. You can't take off your shirt!" Now let's be honest. I had nothing going for me back then, alright? The concept of offending anyone's eyes wasn't really something I grasped. Nonetheless, I was outraged by the thick line they drew across them and I--so I stomped on up to the front seats and exclaimed my desire to also be a shirtless child in the castle of the semi-truck.

I can't tell you what went through my parents' minds or how they came to their conclusion, but by the grace of the Lord Almighty, I had consent to run around the semi-truck without my shirt on.

Good times...

Now, about 14 years later, this memory has proven to be the starting point of which I subtly decided I didn't like being a girl. It's not like I consciously made that decision, but everything I liked was "forbidden" for ladies to like. You know, like fire-breathing lizards, video games, pirates, metal music, and shaving the side of my head...just to name a few.

But last night during a meeting for all the lovely ladies of BSSM, I was jolted by the fact that I have been running from femininity my whole life. I didn't start doing my own hair until high school (my mom always straightened it for me), I vowed to never wear make-up unless I was going to a wedding or some special event--I didn't even own my first pair of heels till two years ago and I'm 21 now.

The thing is that my abstraction of being a woman meant I had to put enormous amounts of effort into my appearance and feel ugly without make-up on, and be graceful in everything and like salads and sit with your legs closed and--most of all--throw away almost everything I ever loved.

Boy, oh boy (or woman, oh woman!), was I ever wrong! It's so silly to think that all this time I thought I was very good at loving myself and being me no matter what--but I subconsciously hated being a girl and all the things that society tied to that. No more, I say! The question isn't "What does it mean to be a woman?" but instead it's, "How do I do woman?"

This is all a fresh process for me, hot out of the oven (smells like apple pie...), but here I am being open about my womanhood. This is perhaps the last thing I thought I'd ever write about. Oh well!

So in conclusion, I've decided to take pro-active steps to help remind me that I can enjoy being a woman the way I'd like to and not be afraid of it. Therefore I'm wearing eyeliner just because for a week. AM I EVEN ALLISON ANYMORE? I DON'T KNOW.

Anyway, if you got to the end of this, congratulations! Here's a slice of hot apple pie for you (hypothetically speaking. Sorry.) And I hope you learned something from this: that if you ever want to live life to the fullest--a truly fine life--you'd love the gender God made you and embrace it. You'll display God's glory that way :)

NOW GO, BE THE KNIGHT TO SOMEONE'S DISTRESS (whether you're a girl, a boy, a dog or a slice of hot apple pie)!