The cancer's gone--Byron Yawn writes of salvation and the Gospel. He asks us to reflect upon what happens when we are saved. He encourages us not to soft sell the message. I like the imagery used here. "Let’s say you had cancer. (God forbid) And an aggressive sort of cancer at that. Terminal. And let’s say after months of unsuccessful treatments and little hope for beating the blasted disease, you go in for a final prognosis with your oncologist. You expect to hear, 'There’s nothing more we can do,' but what you actually hear blows a hole clean through your despair. 'The cancer is gone.' A miracle. Somewhere a pathologist is staring at a Petri dish mumbling to himself, 'Where did it go?' You, obviously, are without words. A very recently re-committed supernaturalist. You went into the appointment with a death sentence and came out with a lease on life.
"Now, let’s say just moments after receiving this news you are walking
up the sidewalk towards your car. I spot you. I notice tears. I would
not assume these are tears of joy. Knowing of your condition and from
whence you came, I ask, 'How are you?' And in reply you say to me, 'I’m
feeling much better. Thanks.' This reply is not untrue. It’s certainly
part of it. But, it’s wrong on other levels. It robs the answer of its
glory. It is not nearly commensurate with the reality of what’s just
happened and the news you’ve received. There is a bigger answer. People
who recover from colds 'feel better.' Those who have cancer disappear
live. The reason you feel better far surpasses a head cold. 'I’ve been
healed! It’s a miracle! My cancer is cured! It’s gone!' What would be my
reply? Tears. Of joy.
Don't get weird--Harvey Turner, writing at The Resurgence, provides the great advice to not get weird when conversations turn to Jesus. I particularly liked this line: "If the Gospel is true...then we should have no insecurities talking about it."