The power of the Word

This morning I took my walk in the cemetery and was lost in prayer when a white pickup truck trundling from the opposite direction stopped as it reached me. Tony, a black man of 48 years of age (as I learned today) spilled out with his usual larger-than-life greeting. He asked if I had heard about Whitney Houston, and I barely had. Turns out she was 48, too, both of them born in 1963.

Tony started telling me how we don't know how many days the Lord has assigned for us on earth, but that He has our birth date and death date all written in His book. Tony said the only thing that counts in between those two dates is what we do with Jesus Christ. He said we need to proclaim Him at all times because it is the Word that saves.

Ever notice, Tony asked me, that in the Bible it doesn't say, "In the beginning was the light," but "In the beginning was the Word"? There is something peculiar about "Word," he said. Word is power. Why, the Lord whispers to the sun and it comes up in the morning, and then He whispers to it again and it goes to sleep. So said Tony.

Tony went on in this vein for a good half hour, the length of an average church sermon. And as he talked I felt my faith rising. It's the combination of hearing the Truth, and hearing it from someone who is excited about it.

Before we parted, I asked Tony to pray for me to have the same boldness he has. I am weary of my reticence (shall we call it cowardice?)-always preparing to give the gospel and never doing it. Tony hits the ground running, going from zero to 60 from any opening topic. And he is always ready to slip into prayer at a moment's notice, as if he was just praying a minute before he met you on the road.