Even though Joelle did fall immediately on his knees in repentance and receive the free gift of salvation, we did realize that God soon elevated a simple conversation into an opportunity to speak light, love, and truth into someone's life. We could tell beyond a shadow of doubt that Joelle truly was touched by our conversation. Naturally there were glitches and personal preferences intertwined into our discussion, but I believe we came away with a fruitful conversation in which a good seed was planted into good soil.
After Joelle left, Ricky and I found a new strength that only God could provide. We felt so refreshed to know that God brought that conversation to us, and we could be ourselves, and that Jesus was still proclaimed and that we never compromised the message. It's especially tough to do so when everyone in New Orleans wants His love but not his righteousness, his mercy but not his justice.
Shortly thereafter, Ricky and I quickly made our way to Bourbon St. Our goal was to simply pray. We decided we would pray at every intersection. This soon turned out to be a very difficult task. I can remember showing up to the corner of Bourbon and St. Ann, and the Spirit then leading us to talk with the man at the hotdog stand. His name is Dave, he's been in New Orleans for quite a long time, and is so grateful to have the love of his life, Sylvia. He knew we were about to pray for him, because he told us its easy to recognize who's a Christian.
We quickly prayed for him, his boss then showed up to make sure he was doing his work, and that was that.
Ricky and I continued down Bourbon, praying as we went along, speaking love into people's eyes whenever they passed. The closer we got to Canal, the more crowded it became. During this time I became overwhelmed with a severe headache. I told Ricky that we needed to get off Bourbon for a while. As we walked one more block, we soon heard the praises of a small group of believers singing "hallelujah." This thrilled our hearts.
We decided to wait awhile and enjoy the sound of praise. For a while, even I joined in the chorus and praised him with great joy. I think God brought this about to relieve me of my headache...
next blog
Saturday, February 2, 2008
Friday, February 1, 2008
my Vieux Carre Mardi Gras experience
Day 1
My friend Trish dropped me off at the church around 11am. If not for two flat tires, I would've taken my bicycle. Afterall, its only 3 miles from Gentilly to the French Quarter. The church was already busting at the seems with groups from various places coming to Mardi Gras for street evangelism. Pastor Greg and I waited around the church until his wife, Wren, could meet us for lunch. While waiting, David, my closest friend who lives on the street, and I spent our time observing beer trucks drop off beverages at the neighboring Gold Mine Saloon as well as the occasional odd couple who walked down Dauphine Street. Our good friends Cajun and Troy, both street musicians, sat in their van just outside the church doors as they patiently waited for the streets to fill with wandering tourists.
And as we waited for Wren, amidst hunger pains and anxious thoughts, both Pastor Greg and I knew this day would soon collide with the night...for Mardi Gras is upon us.
After subtle salutations and short orientations with the groups at the church, my friend Ricky and I decided to meander at on the streets to see what God had planned for us. I knew I had to send a few emails, so we both decided to walk a ways on Bourbon St., then head towards CC's (Community Coffee) on Royal St.
While on Bourbon, we felt like cowards. Prior to our entry we asked God for courage and boldness to speak. But being so overwhelmed with the chaotic condition we found ourselves in, we soon discovered that even handing out a simple gospel tract became a direct act of God. I told Ricky about my fear of presenting the gospel message, especially when presented like a plan or a formula. Ricky reminded me to let God guide our steps, our words, and our conversations, and He will surely open the door.
And speaking of doors, we came to CC's and for a brief moment thought it was already closed because the door was slightly jammed. It made an obnoxious sound after I forced it open, disturbing the peace in an otherwise peaceful coffee shop. A few seconds later, the man behind me did the exact same thing, and we both began to joke about it while ordering our drinks.
I chose a seat next to the wall, and that same man decided to sit down next to Ricky and me despite the availability of several other tables. Amidst tardy emails and scattered conversations, Ricky and I slowly began to talk with Joelle about life, travel, and as always, the present state of New Orleans. Nearly all New Orleans still talk about the depressing state of the city, and everyone is always providing the two cents worth of wisdom on how to alleviate the situation.
As for Joelle, who currently resides in Germany but is visiting family until mid-February, told us that he wonders if there really is a true solution to the dilemma that is New Orleans. Ricky and I, without hesitation, knew this was an opportunity to share about Jesus, the only true Restorer and Redeemer....
next blog..
My friend Trish dropped me off at the church around 11am. If not for two flat tires, I would've taken my bicycle. Afterall, its only 3 miles from Gentilly to the French Quarter. The church was already busting at the seems with groups from various places coming to Mardi Gras for street evangelism. Pastor Greg and I waited around the church until his wife, Wren, could meet us for lunch. While waiting, David, my closest friend who lives on the street, and I spent our time observing beer trucks drop off beverages at the neighboring Gold Mine Saloon as well as the occasional odd couple who walked down Dauphine Street. Our good friends Cajun and Troy, both street musicians, sat in their van just outside the church doors as they patiently waited for the streets to fill with wandering tourists.
And as we waited for Wren, amidst hunger pains and anxious thoughts, both Pastor Greg and I knew this day would soon collide with the night...for Mardi Gras is upon us.
After subtle salutations and short orientations with the groups at the church, my friend Ricky and I decided to meander at on the streets to see what God had planned for us. I knew I had to send a few emails, so we both decided to walk a ways on Bourbon St., then head towards CC's (Community Coffee) on Royal St.
While on Bourbon, we felt like cowards. Prior to our entry we asked God for courage and boldness to speak. But being so overwhelmed with the chaotic condition we found ourselves in, we soon discovered that even handing out a simple gospel tract became a direct act of God. I told Ricky about my fear of presenting the gospel message, especially when presented like a plan or a formula. Ricky reminded me to let God guide our steps, our words, and our conversations, and He will surely open the door.
And speaking of doors, we came to CC's and for a brief moment thought it was already closed because the door was slightly jammed. It made an obnoxious sound after I forced it open, disturbing the peace in an otherwise peaceful coffee shop. A few seconds later, the man behind me did the exact same thing, and we both began to joke about it while ordering our drinks.
I chose a seat next to the wall, and that same man decided to sit down next to Ricky and me despite the availability of several other tables. Amidst tardy emails and scattered conversations, Ricky and I slowly began to talk with Joelle about life, travel, and as always, the present state of New Orleans. Nearly all New Orleans still talk about the depressing state of the city, and everyone is always providing the two cents worth of wisdom on how to alleviate the situation.
As for Joelle, who currently resides in Germany but is visiting family until mid-February, told us that he wonders if there really is a true solution to the dilemma that is New Orleans. Ricky and I, without hesitation, knew this was an opportunity to share about Jesus, the only true Restorer and Redeemer....
next blog..
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