just sitting there

We have had quite a few times to ride public transportation in big cities. I usually have to gear myself up for it. Its a little wild trying to figure out where to go and what bus or subway to get on in a big foreign city with 3 small children. Normally, they are not our finest moments as a family. Andy and I are usually a little tense, trying to keep an eye on all the kids and attempting to stay out of the way of the crowds of people coming and going. And when we finally sit down on the bus or whatever it may be, we are all a little harried and relieved to know we are going the right way with all our kids still in tow. Often times we are either on our way to "do ministry" or just finishing a day.

All that to say, we rarely think of it as a moment to share Jesus with anyone.

God has repeatedly proven not only that we are wrong in this thought, but that He does not need us.

Just yesterday we hopped on the Boston Tunnel Train back to Dorchester. As usual we were relieved to know our family was still in tact and heading in the right direction. As we rode, our kids jabbered and talked the whole time, and Eva made many attempts at climbing all over our row of seats. I noticed the people across from us smiling and enjoying the entertainment, I laughed a couple times with them and smiled back. But for the most part we kept to ourselves.

The train stopped and the folks across from us stood up to get off. One of the men turned and looked at Andy smiling and said, "Watching your family gives me hope. Thank you." He then turned and walked off the train. Both Andy and I just looked at eachother amused to know we had not "done" a single thing and shared Jesus with a stranger.

This happened another time in Chicago just after we had given the kids an earfull for not listening and obeying.

They are humbling moments because we know fully well they are seeing CHRIST IN US. We were just sitting there each time, being every day people and right before our very eyes a miracle was released. Christ shone through our earthly vessels to give someone hope.