Pull the Trigger
I enjoy guns. I love shooting hand guns and rifles. Although I’ve never owned a gun (except my childhood pellet rifle), I’m a big 2nd Amendment supporter. My dad owns several guns, and I get to spend an occasional Saturday afternoon target shooting with him at the range.
Allow me to state the obvious: a gun will not fire unless you pull the trigger. You can purchase all the guns you want, but if you don’t load them and pull the trigger they will just sit there collecting dust and, by some, admiration. My outings with my dad at the range will produce nothing but boredom if we just load the guns, point them at targets, and then just sit there. The adrenaline rush happens only when I pull the trigger.
There are times in my walk with God when I have my “gun”, it’s “loaded”, but I never pull the trigger. The call I need to make to a man whose marriage is on the brink of disaster. The visit I need to make to a church member in the hospital. The words of admonition that need to be expressed to a struggling teenager. Or even something as simple as being light to someone whose life is surrounded by darkness.
Our youth group had our first GO Night last month. We split the teens into eight groups and sent them to various places in our city to be light to people with whom they came in contact. I was part of a group who was supposed to approach total strangers at a shopping center and ask them if I could pray for them. I had tried this before with a new friend, but couldn’t bring myself to pull the trigger. On this particular night, however, I was eager. Nervous, but eager. I approached a young couple and pulled the trigger. It was great! I hit the target! They were receptive and appreciative that a total stranger would care enough to stop them and pray for a them.
It makes me wonder how many Christians are running around out there with “loaded weapons” but too scared to pull the trigger.
About a year ago everything in my world fell apart what seemed like in one day. I was at the edge of giving up. Another day came and I was falling apart. I was pumping gas in my truck and crying like a baby when a stranger approached me and said did I want to pray with him. I said yes. We prayed. Still crying I thanked him and drove off. I looked in my rear view mirror and couldn’t find him. I glanced over at the station and he wasn’t there. That was a turning point in my life. Within a few months my life was back on track and I’ve never looked back. So praying with strangers is such a blessing for everyone involved.