48 GOOD MORNING, HOLY SPIRIT
couldn't shake the image. I saw crowds of people. And
there I was, wearing a suit, my hair all trimmed and neat,
preaching up a storm.
That day I found Bob, my "weird" friend who had once
plastered the kiosk walls with Scripture. I shared just a little
about what had happened that week. And I told him that I
even saw myself preaching.
"Bob," I said, "all day long it's been like this. I can't
shake the picture of me speaking in huge open-air rallies, in
stadiums, in churches, in concert halls." Beginning to
stutter, I told him, "I see people, as far as the eye can see? I
must be losing my mind! What do you think it means?"
"There can only be one thing," he told me. "God is
preparing you for a great ministry. I think it's wonderful."
CAST OUT
I didn't get that kind of encouragement at home. Of
course, I really couldn't tell them what the Lord was doing.
The situation was dreadful.
Humiliation and Shame
My entire family began to harass and ridicule me. It
was horrible. I expected it from my father, but not my
mother. When I was growing up, she had showed so much
affection. So had my brothers and sisters. But now they
treated me with disdain—like an intruder who didn't
belong.
"Tradition! Tradition!" says the song in Fiddler on the
Roof. If an Easterner breaks tradition, he has committed an
unpardonable sin. I doubt that the West will ever truly
understand its seriousness. He brings humiliation upon his
family. And that can't be forgiven.