I am not ashamed

I am not ashamed

"I am not ashamed. I am not ashamed."
That thought kept on running through my head. I was standing under a skyscraper in Hong Kong, surrounded by hundreds of Filipinos, and I was a tree. Waving back and forth as my team performed a drama behind me. I was embarassed. I felt ackward and foolish. Who stands in the middle of a street in front of strangers who didn't ask you to be there... being a tree?

We were with YFC, one of the ministries that CTI partners with internationally, and they asked us to do street evangelism. Our ministry with YFC consisted of going to schools and singing songs in cantonese and then presenting the gospel to the kids. On weekends or evenings we did street evangelism or minister in churches. We would use dramas that we had learned in the states. I was lucky enough to be chosen for the drama "Dare You To Move". It's an amazing drama and I love doing it. But it looks rather foolish when you're just standing there for the first 2 minutes waving back and forth like a tree. Don't worry, I eventually turn into Satan in the drama so it's all good! I get used to eating dirt after Jesus destroys me!
Hong Kong has a large Filipino population. Mostly women who come there to earn money to send home. Most of them are domestic helpers and have only one day off a week. So we were ministering to these Filipino women who were enjoying their day off.

I always struggle with the thought of street evangelism, in regards to it's effectiveness. I know it would not work at all in the USA and to be honest I would be offended to see it in America. But we weren't in America. We were in Hong Kong, and we would be for a month.

" I am not ashamed." I told myself. But I was ashamed, ashamed of myself for being embaressed by the message of salvation. Ashamed that I wasn't bolder, or more joyful. And I was saddened that so many times I miss the meaning of why I believe in Jesus. I forget the mess I am, and the rescue that Jesus was, is, will be to me. Why can't I grasp this? Why can't I translate that into words, or a smile, or a note I sing? Or into being a tree?

While methods vary ( I would never choose street evangelism to tell people about Jesus) the message remains constant. Love is waiting. God is waiting. I am waiting for it, though I have it, I'll never have enough. Yet it still is too much for me to contain. Words fail to describe Jesus. That's why sometimes all I can do is stand in a busy street in Hong Kong, perform dramas, sing, play, and remind myself. I am not ashamed of the gospel, because this story of love is the power that renews life!