My mom reminded me of this part of Eric's story (I had forgotten all about it)... so I looked it up today. It's taken from "God's Gift to Women" (pgs. 86-91). It's from a time when Eric was invited to street evangelize on Bourbon Street in New Orleans during a Mardi Gras celebration with a group of committed believers.
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Downtown New Orleans was overwhelmingly congested on this particular night. Drunken partiers filled the streets. We were forced to park the van several miles away and make the long trek to Bourbon Street on foot. I found myself walking a safe distance from this embarrassing group of Christians. Here we were, ten idiots carrying Bibles, tracts, and pieces of lumber, being gawked at by the smirking onlookers.
Run, Eric! Save your image!! Protect your dignity! Secure your reputation as a "normal" human being! My Self was howling to get its power back. It wanted the throne of my life, to regain control over my inner command center. Trust me, Eric! I am your only hope! Only I can save you from this looming humiliation.
I was deeply troubled as I realized my shame for Christ and His people. These teammates of mine were the "weird" people that Tom, the well-meaning Christian youth worker, had warned me about. These were Christian that had passed the point of reasonableness in their commitment to their King. They would willingly risk their image, their dignity, and their reputations as "normal" human beings. Even as my Self passionately argued for me to keep my distance, my King wooed me to follow their example. a sacred threshold of fire was set before me, with the words "Choose your King" etched on the doorpost. I knew I had to make a choice. It was a moment of decision.
When we finally arrived at Bourbon Street, my heart was pounding and my face as red with embarrassment. Three of the guys on my team began to construct the pieces of lumber into a cross. A human sea of chaos and drunkenness swirled around us. I couldn't recall a time when I had been so uncomfortable. All I wanted to do was go home, back to my warm, familiar bed. The huge cross was nearing completion as my teammates struggled to fit the top beam into its place. "Eric," one of them called our above the deafening roar, "could you give us a hand?"
What else could I do buy help them? I awkwardly walked their way, still trying to pretend I wasn't really with this odd group of Christian, that I was just a stranger off the street, being polite. Cautiously, I reached up and placed my hand on the top beam, sliding it into place. All the strength seemed to drain from my body.
Everyone's looking at you, Eric! my Self cried out. I quickly backed away into the human pandemonium, distancing myself from the enormous wooden structure that screamed for mocking attention. My heart raced. I had actually touched the cross in public--right in the middle of Bourbon Street during the wildest party of the year.
I can't believe you did that! my Self protested. I had touched the fire, and it had burned.
Our team decided to split up and merge with the mob so that they could begin sharing the message of Christ. I remained frozen in place as the multitudes pushed, danced, and brawled all around me. I felt like a pebble of sand on a frantic anthill. I was about eight feet away from the cross now. I glanced toward it and instantly found myself mesmerized by what was taking place at the foot of those two pieces of symbolic lumber. The young man holding up the cross was being mocked, spat upon, and shoved. Yet he stood there courageously, seemingly undaunted by the public scorn.
My King was beckoning me to cross the sacred threshold. All I could see was scorching fire, but I heard His powerful Voice beckoning me to surrender to His rule and cross the line of obedience.
"Eric," said the Voice, "choose your king."
In the midst of the tumult, another voice called out to me. "Hey, Ludy!" the young man holding the cross shouted excitedly. "Do you want to hold the cross?"
The sacred threshold standing before me was clear and unmistakable, and it was still flaming with searing fire. These are the moments that make or break us. Trials that test our allegiance can build the stuff of great manhood.
"Eric, choose your king." The inward Voice was strong and insistent.
"Okay!" I finally shouted back to the young man. My trembling legs could hardly carry me the eight long feet to my destination.
Taking a deep breath, I grabbed the splintery cross from the brave young man, wrapping my arms around the base to stabilize it. The moment I embraced the rough wood, I found something that I had never before that moment even known existed. I had crossed that fiery line of decision and in so doing I had unearthed something hidden from my understanding up until that moment. I discovered the secret of manhood. I found the empowerment of my King, I realized the matchless joy of giving up everything for Him.
Electrifying fulfillment and unshakable confidence washed over me as I stood with my arm wrapped tightly around the cross in the midst of a mob that detested it and everything it stood for.
I stood there for three straight hours, being mocked, spat upon, cussed at, and shoved... and I wished it would never end. I smiled so big and for so long that night that my face hurt for days afterward. Before I had taken hold of that cross, I was just a normal, everyday guy wandering the streets of New Orleans. But once I put my arm around it, there were no longer any misconceptions about my loyalty. I stood in the middle of an ocean of people mocking the symbol of Christ and declared to them all, "I'm with Him!"
It was the first time that I had tasted the intimate companionship of my King. It was my very first encounter with the God who will never leave me or forsake me. It was my first experience with the sheer and transcendent pleasure that courses through your being when you are completely freed from the rule of Self and public opinion and only care what your King thinks. In the midst of a seeming hell, I found heaven on earth. I found the secret that makes men great.
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I'm sure Eric would tell us this isn't a one-time decision. I've already crossed a couple of similar thresholds, and I'm a brand new "pioneer." Those decisions come throughout our walk with the Lord, new sacred, burning thresholds the Lord asks us to cross... opportunities to embrace the cross and step out of the natural into the supernatural.
Lord, give us Your Grace to yield and to obediently step thru each threshold that we encounter. May the voice of our flesh fade till it no longer rings in our heart, but Your Holy Voice ALONE resonates in our souls! Draw us daily further after You... create in us hearts WHOLLY ABANDONED to You!!! Let it be, Jesus, for YOUR Glory!!
In Jesus,
Bethany
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2 comments:
I really needed this reminder... thanks.
What a blessing to read that! I haven't read "God's gift to women" but it looks like I should! :-)
Thanks Bethany for sharing!
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