photo by paul obregon

Much of life is either inconvenience or opportunity, and I was reminded of this often-inconvenient truth one certain Friday night after backing too haphazardly out of my parking space near a shopping mall in Atlanta.

Did you look? my wife Megan asked, no doubt troubled by insurance rate increases and a perhaps permanent black streak running the length of her once-gleaming silver rear bumper.

I dont know, I said in perfect ambiguity, struggling from my seatbelt. Are you all right? I asked the other party, a young African-American woman, sliding from her black sports car.

Seeing an indefinite wait as obvious opportunity, I exchanged insurance information and a few thoughts on my spiritual life. She had been a Christian a number of years and openly shared what God had done in her life. With the patrolman who pulled up later, I interacted a little bit differently. He did not seem too receptive to any amount of conversation.

Instead of asking him where he goes to church, or whether he thought his crowns in heaven would be as shiny as his strobes, I let him leave with the full but insignificant knowledge that I have a name, a birthday, a job and an insurance policy.

Youre free to go, he said, seemingly reluctant about letting go those parting words.

And while I was a bit reluctant myself to let it go, I realized it just wasnt the right time to probe around about his spiritual condition. So when is it the right time?

In this issue of On Mission, we hope to address this important question. Yes, God calls us to be ready at any time, to be prepared in season and out of season. But if we are dulled instruments, if we are unaware, then we may miss the Spirits gentle urging, and the right time will quickly, quietly pass. But this same dullness of instrument may also turn away a softening heart if we are insensitive to the Spirits timing.

Talk about someone who needs to be ministered to, my wife said when the patrol car yelped a siren call and sped past us. I silently nodded, watching those blue lights flash away and out of sight, prayerful that some day those same lights would bring softened soil to a ready seed.

Adam Miller, associate editor, On  Mission

amiller@namb.net