At the little college* from which I graduated in Texas they'd call what I need to do here a "good bull" session. For the uninitiated this means getting to the heart of the matter. Simply put, I have a punctuation peculiarity.
It all has to do with an asterisk. That's right, that funny-looking-little-star-like mark. It tells readers when there's more information at the bottom of the page that wasn't important enough to burden them with in the main section of a document.
I was born in the year of the asterisk. Baseball fans know that's 1961. Roger Maris hit 61 home runs in 1961 to break Babe Ruth's single-season home run record. Ruth's legend had grown so strong that an asterisk** was inserted by Maris' name in the record book. It told that Maris played in more games in 1961 than Ruth did the year he hit 60.
In addition to my birth year, my life has an asterisk at many points. I was the youngest newspaper editor in Texas, not ever, just at the time I was editing that particular paper.
I played on a college football team that won a national championship--the year I left the team. Actually that one has two asterisks because that's not the college from which I graduated.
There are many others, but at the risk of boring you with self-indulgent personal trivia, suffice it to say, asterisks are special to me. That's why I think my "on missionness" has an asterisk. This asterisk is fairly easy to explain. I need accountability. In keeping with the theme of this issue, the discovery of my personal fit for sharing my faith came from going to jail. We probably need another asterisk here. No, I wasn't in jail. I was there to share my faith with the unfortunate ones who found themselves on the confining side of the bars.
The first person I led to faith in Christ was in a jail. I found that having a partner and an appointed time to go share my faith with non-Christians helped keep me on mission. As I've lived this life, the more accountability I've had, the better I've done staying in the game. Let's hear it for accountability.
Helping Christians be on mission is what this magazine is all about. That's why my own "on missionness" gives me pause. Looking in the mirror I question whether the one staring back is really a player. I'm not talking about comparison here. Believe me, working with "professional" evangelists would make almost any saint shrink back. The question isn't, "What is she doing?" it's, "What am I doing?" I can't seem to get away from asking, "Have I told someone about Christ lately?"
In that light, you'll find ways to help you find your fit for sharing Christ with others in this issue. I encourage you to take advantage of the ways others have become on mission. If you've found your fit, please share it with us on our Reader Forum on page 13. We'll share your ideas in future issues and continue to help other Christians find their fits.
As for me, it's going to mean setting a more ambitious goal for sharing my faith with others. My accountability group will soon be empowered to bring sufficient pressure to make sure I continue putting the gospel where my mouth is.
Joe Conwayjconway@namb.net
* For the record, my alma mater is Texas A&M University.
** Actually, there was never a real asterisk in the record book. Maris had to share space with Ruth. Ruth's name was removed a few years ago. Mark McGwire, and later, Sammy Sosa, broke Maris' record in September of this year.