If you’re pregnant and currently walking through—okay, waddling through—your ninth month of pregnancy, please don’t slap my face when I tell you that you’re beautiful. Here’s why.
First, it’s neither a corny attempt to make you feel better, nor veiled sarcasm to try and get a laugh. No, it’s just the truth. You are Eve before the apple. And even though you probably—no, almost certainly—don’t feel the least bit beautiful…you are.
Second, I have long maintained that the biblical way to outnumber the wicked is to simply outnumber them. The late Libyan dictator Muammar Gaddafi, evil and twisted though he was, once predicted that Islam would conquer Europe without a shot fired, simply because Muslim immigrants were averaging about five children per household while birthrates amongst Europe’s native populations were (and still are) plummeting. Today, it looks like mad Muammar was prophesying.
Think of it this way: Adam and Eve couldn’t stand on a corner in Eden and “witness” to passersby, because there weren’t any. Therefore, the only way they could fulfill God’s mandate to rule the earth in his behalf was to “be fruitful and multiply.” But how? Like jackrabbits in Arizona or the promiscuous characters on soap operas?—well, actually those two are about the same except for the makeup. No, God’s way to populate the earth would be, like the rest of his creation, by means of an ordered plan, a divinely ordained institution called Family. And how were families created? A boy would become a man, who would leave his parents to take a wife, with whom he would create a new family. And then…well, you get the picture. Chicken, egg. Birds, bees.
Finally, personal evangelism, aka witnessing, is good if you see it in terms of relationship rather than technique, and are prepared for that relationship to be long-lasting. Sure, there are people gifted and called to talk or preach to the public at large about following Jesus. But these people are exceptional (e.g., evangelists or, in some cases, weird and humble and bold enough to stand on a street corner and just go for it). But most people aren’t exceptional. We’re normal, and there’s no way we’re going to enjoy knocking on some stranger’s door after they just got home from work to tell them about Jesus. Sure, it works for some people. But the prophet Isaiah walked the streets naked for a couple of years, and it worked for him. Me—I ain’t tryin’ it.
In my first book, How a Man Stands Up for Christ, which I called my un-witnessing book, I said:
The hello-do-you-know-Jesus kind of witnessing feels like an unnatural act for most men. We instinctively see it as an act of aggression, and therefore something to avoid. Television’s Jay Leno once described a group of Christians who knocked on his door to ask him if he knew Jesus. “For a minute,” he mugged, “I was afraid they were going to try and gang-save me!” It’s a crude joke, but it sheds light on the way well-meaning Christians often are perceived. If Mother Teresa held a gun on you, your feelings would be mainly in reaction to the gun, not the nun….As for me, I’d rather go golfing. Tee-to-green is better than door-to-door on any day of my year. Besides, the golf course is probably a better place to share your faith than ten inches away from someone’s screen door, which is an owner-installed device to keep pests out.
I still feel that way 20 years after writing those words. And so do you. Unless you’re, uh, exceptional.
Having babies, on the other hand, is as exhilarating as street witnessing is excruciating. Plus, you’ve got years, not minutes, to tell them about Jesus, teach them what he says, and cinch the deal for life.
Yes, ma’am. I think you’re beautiful, all the way through that bloated, “I feel like I’m carrying water for the whole team” ninth month. Because I can see what you don’t see in the mirror: You’re a walking, talking Exhibit A from God that the world is not too far gone, and that there is indeed hope for the future of Man.