The Witness

I was driving down I-85 just a few miles east of Montgomery when my faithful Pinto station wagon became unfaithful. I was coming back to Athens from visiting my family in Baton Rouge during Spring break in 1981 when things began to “go south” with the car as it started to hum louder than the music and smoke began to fill my rearview mirror. My transmission was going out and I was sort of in the “middle of nowhere” Alabama.

The car slowed to a crawl as I headed to the edge of the interstate and then it died. As I got out of the car I saw another vehicle pull up behind me, so I walked up to the window to see what the guy wanted. He rolled his glass down and asked if I needed a lift somewhere, as he had been following me for a few miles as the smoke got thicker. I told him that my transmission had gone out and that I would appreciate a ride to the next exit with a gas station, and he agreed.

I started to get into his car and thought about the half pound of pot in my back pack and also, my roommate’s pistol under my seat. So, I asked him if I could get the pistol and give him the bullets so it wouldn’t be stolen, and I failed to mention what was in my back pack. He said that I could keep the pistol and the bullets as he really didn’t care either way. We stopped at the first gas station and they agreed to tow the car to the nearest AAMCO, who was the company that had replaced the transmission a month earlier in Athens.

On the way to the gas station he asked where I was headed and I told him Athens and he said he could get me to Atlanta and would drop me off somewhere northeast of town. I immediately thought that was great as I didn’t have a clue as to how I would get back. Then he proceeded to tell me that he had never picked up anyone before as he was always afraid that he would end up dead somewhere killed by a hitch hiker or some bad guy in a broke down car. But I’m sitting beside him with enough pot to go to jail for and a 357 magnum, loaded.  How bizarre!

Then came the message. “Steve, do you know why I picked you up?” My answer was probably “Nope.” He said, “I picked you up because the Lord told me to, and for some reason I felt like it was very important that I did so and so I did. Actually, I can’t believe I did it, but I’m good with it now”. And I thought, “This is great, my car breaks down and I get picked up by a holy roller. I need to smoke a joint, like now!”

As we drove the next couple hundred plus miles, the man just kept witnessing to me, and the more he said about his relationship with God the more curious I got. So curious, that I began to ask questions and as I have learned over the years, that will get a holy roller excited. My new friend got so excited he decided to by-pass Atlanta and drive me home, which wasn’t really Athens but 15 miles north of town near Ila, Georgia. The more he talked, the more comfortable I felt with him. Somehow, I knew he was the real deal. He authentically loved his God, Jesus.

For years, I had made fun of his God, and now I think I was a little embarrassed. Why would someone who lived in Atlanta drive an arrogant college kid like me all the way home to Ila and then drive back home to Atlanta? Is something wrong with this guy?

He pulled in front of the farm house I lived in and stopped the car for me to get out.  He then said that he had something he wanted to give me. He opened the trunk of the car and reached for a Bible, as he turned to give it to me he said, “Steve, this is my Bible, and the Lord wants me to give it to you. Please read it son, He has something to tell you and it is in this book. I don’t know what it is but I know He has something planned for your life. Just think, I drove a hundred miles out of my way to let you know that He loves you and has plans for you, please take Him seriously.”

My new friend got in his car and drove away, and I went into the house and threw the Bible on a shelf and never looked at it, not even once. At that time the world owned me.  I was intrigued by what the guy said and amazed that he felt so strongly about it that he drove a long way out of his way to attempt to open my mind and heart to the Gospel. But back then, I was either the path or the rocky soil in Mark 4:4-5, and the Message just didn’t take root in me…yet.  But, I’m one of His favorites!

THOUGHTS FROM THE HUNTER KIND:

We are all witnesses, but am I such a witness as the guy who picked me up? God puts people in our path to draw to Him, usually in times of trial. How odd is it that thirty-seven years later that I would remember a guy who picked me up when my car broke down. Just think I will see him again one day and we will celebrate his witness.

PRAYER OF THE HUNTER KIND: Mark 4:14-20

Lord, I pray for the person who reads this that is currently living as rocky soil, that they realize that You love us where we are, and that You are a patient God. I pray that they also would know and believe that our soil changes when we recognize that You are real and that there is freedom in You. I pray Your favor over those You pursue! In Jesus name!