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Making the Most of Every Opportunity
Anyone familiar with Billy Graham—known to my family as Daddy Bill—knows he shared his faith boldly, without hesitation. Whether witnessing to individuals or preaching in a crowded arena, he did not speak with rehearsed precision. He spoke with passion and conviction because he believed every word he said with every fiber of his being! His deep love for Jesus was always evident in the fire in his piercing blue eyes and the passionate conviction in his familiar voice.
Thousands, even millions, came to faith in Jesus because Daddy Bill’s passionate heart for the gospel came through in everything he said and did. Nothing brought him more joy than seeing someone come to Christ! My grandmother, whom we called Tai Tai, told my mom that she and Daddy Bill were once the guests of some friends at a beautiful beach resort. At dinnertime, no one could find Daddy Bill. When Tai Tai went looking for him, she found him behind their building, sharing the gospel with one of the groundskeepers.
My paternal grandfather, whom we simply called Grampa, also shared the gospel with everyone with whom he came in contact, whether a pedestrian on a street corner in New York City, the person riding next to him on the subway, the waiter at the delicatessen he frequented, or one of the hitchhikers he often picked up for the sole purpose of sharing the gospel with them.
One Thanksgiving he and Gramma were driving down from New York City to spend a week with us. Mom had fixed a beautiful meal to enjoy upon their arrival. We waited and waited. When they finally arrived about eight hours later than expected, we learned Grampa had picked up a hitchhiker, then driven the guy to his destination—six hours out of the way—because Grampa wanted him to know Jesus!
He would say he “didn’t give a rip” about what people thought of him; he cared only about what Jesus thought of him. When we get to Heaven, I can’t wait to meet all the people whom he led to Christ. At Grampa’s funeral, a man told my dad he had seen the notice of Grampa’s death in the paper and had come to the service because he wanted the family to know that Grampa had led him to Christ at the local McDonald’s, where Grampa went every morning for a cup of coffee.
It’s clear that the witness of my grandparents made an impact on both of my parents, instilling in them the importance of sharing the gospel at every opportunity.
When I was in elementary school, each Christmas my mom would come in to share the gospel through the Christmas story. I attended a public school that did not look favorably on the Bible or any type of Christian teaching. To share the Christmas story openly without using a Bible, my mom had to be creative. She had the clever idea of using the encyclopedia. As she sat surrounded by my classmates, teachers congregated in the doorway and the principal made a show of being present. But no one could argue with what the encyclopedia said about Bethlehem, the angels, baby Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. While writing this, I took a moment to look up the words Jesus, Mary, Joseph, angel, cross, forgiveness, resurrection, heaven, eternity, and peace in the dictionary. And do you know what? The same thing is true! The explanations are right there. You can share the gospel from the dictionary! Try it the next time you feel led to share the gospel and someone tells you not to read the Bible in a public setting. Just thinking about it makes me smile.
The Lord has used my mom to share the gospel with many others over the years, including when she led Just Give Me Jesus revivals worldwide in large arenas. She always shared the gospel in the opening session, inviting people to come to the cross and pray with her to receive Christ. Over the years, hundreds of people streamed down to the platform. Her Friday night message on the Cross is the most powerful message I have ever heard. At every revival my mom not only focused on the audience but also had a burden for the production crew—the guys who worked behind the scenes with the lighting, the audio and video equipment, and the stage.
I remember one revival in particular that took place in the San Diego Sports Arena. The revival began Friday evening, then went all day Saturday, which also happened to be Mom’s birthday. She gave three sixty-minute messages, emceed the program, then stayed almost two hours after the conclusion to greet people who lined up to speak and pray with her.
We had arranged to meet some special friends for her birthday dinner in La Jolla. She was to come straight to the restaurant from the arena. We waited and waited and waited. We finally went ahead and ordered our dinner. After we finished eating, Mom came in. We could all tell she was totally wiped out, but the sparkle in her eyes let us know she had been up to something special. And then she told us. As she was getting ready to leave the arena, she asked the guy who had handled her audio for the last five revivals whether he knew that his sins were forgiven and that he would be going to Heaven. He answered, “I’m not sure,” to which Mom replied, “Would you like to make sure now?” He said yes! So Mom returned to the arena, sat down with him to answer his questions, then prayed with him as he confessed his sin, asked God to forgive him, and invited Jesus into his heart. Mom said it was the best birthday present she could have ever received.
And then there’s my dad. When he wasn’t talking about the Lord, he was talking about the Yankees or football or Carolina basketball or a difficult patient he encountered in his work as a dentist. Dad just loved to talk. Many men were drawn to my dad because he was a big manly guy who would shoot straight with them. He told it like it was, whatever it was, just like the New Yorker that he was. He led several men’s Bible studies, and he would randomly call on guys to answer questions, which meant they all came prepared every week for fear of embarrassment! Many men came to Christ in his Bible studies. Dad’s faithfulness in leading was especially apparent the week that Hurricane Fran roared through our city, destroying the electrical grid and mangling the telephone wires. He walked the three miles to his Friday morning Bible study, found no one there, and never let the guys forget that they didn’t show up when he did!
Sharing the gospel is not just for the evangelists and pastors of the world, like my grandfathers, or for Bible teachers and study group leaders, like my parents. Those who have placed their faith in Jesus are called to go and tell the good news to everyone: neighbors, cab drivers, professors, plumbers, coworkers, friends, family, and the list goes on.
I’ve been raised in a family where telling people about Jesus is as common as drinking water. My husband, Steven, and I have tried to instill that same priority in our three girls. They feel confident in sharing the gospel because they’ve seen me sharing the gospel just as I’ve seen my parents and grandparents sharing the gospel. Hardly a day goes by when I’m not trying to talk about Jesus or His Word with someone in my path. I’m not telling people about Jesus out of a weighty sense of duty. Sharing the gospel is not about reciting a rehearsed speech, performing a mechanical exercise, or repeating some formula. I talk about Jesus because I love Him! God’s Word says, “Out of the overflow of his heart his mouth speaks.” God’s love should flow out of our hearts, compelling us to share it with others in our everyday lives. So what does that look like?
