Prayer to become an Evangelist

You might remember that a few weeks ago I was soliciting prayer to become an Evangelist. An interesting thing has happened: as I’ve prayed for the gift of evangelism, my desire for it has decreased. I wonder if this is one of two things. Either it’s me losing focus and just going with the inertia of a non-evangelistic life or it’s God saying ‘no that’s not for you right now.’

I’d be interested in your thoughts.

Soliciting prayers...

If you'd be willing to offer up a prayer for me, I'm asking God to make me an evangelist. Not a stadium tour type, just someone who consistently goes to people and makes the plea of the Gospel. I've never done this well, and I feel a deep internal blockage to speaking up.

The catalyst for this prayer was last night at the youth group I volunteer at, we were informed one of the girl's father has an untreatable form of cancer. Further, none of the girl's family, apparently, knows Christ. We all prayed ... but I've prayed for the sick before, which is fine ... but I wondered, 'why doesn't someone stand up and say, let's go visit this guy and tell him about the Gospel?' No one did, and I'm praying that God would make me into someone who would do that.

I don't believe people are primarily responsible--at all-- for bringing about in others faith in Christ. But, I do know that Paul said "How will they hear the Gospel if no one tells them?" Currently, my conscience rests very uneasily on my record of having not been someone who makes a real effort to tell people the Gospel.

So, your prayers are appreciated. And discussion of this topic is welcome too.

Burly street preacher

Late summer, early evening,
on the Starbucks patio,
corner of O and 12th.

College students are out
(they’re mostly still sober),
and I’m sipping a latte,
reading Kafka on the Shore.

But I’m distracted by the bellowing
of a burly street preacher
who’s got propped on his shoulder
a 20-foot cross.

He’s barking “sin” and “judgment,”
courtesy of our Lord and Savior,
and I grimace
as some teens snicker.
I cringe as he snarls, “you didn’t come from no monkey!”
to jeering, bepectacled humanists
who're holding a banner reading
‘God hates wet dreams, Deuteronomy 23:10’.
The preacher threatens hell
to a man in tattoos and black,
and I brace myself as the rebel
angrily yells back "you're the one who's gonna burn!"

I wish I’d brought my ear plugs.
I’m just trying to read Murakami.
Still – even if I’ve got to pick them out
between grating spiritual epithets
– still –
I never get tired of hearing
the balmy words, “Jesus Christ.”

http://www.infuzemag.com/creative/poetry/%22burly_street_preacher%22_by_kenny_ching/

I recently struck up an e-mail correspondence with my aunt, Robbi. Upon finding out that I was a Christian, she said "please do not try to convert me."

Should I honor her request?