The Atheist

My friend was an atheist, and there was nothing I could do about it.

She told me she knew a lot of “Christians”—people who claimed the love of Christ but had only hatred for her.

“I just want you to know,” I told her one day, “That’s not Jesus.”

We didn’t talk about Christ much after that, Christine and I. I guess I’d finally reached the point where I didn’t (out of excitement) assault everyone with my faith. Instead, I was learning to wait on what His Spirit wanted me to do.

One morning He woke me up. It was 2 a.m., and I couldn’t stop thinking about Christine. It was an odd prayer, but I whispered it anyway: God, give Christine a dream that will terrify her. Show her You’re real.

I’m not into the scare-people-into-heaven thing. I don’t think that’s God’s method most of the time. He gave me a gentle spirit, but I couldn’t deny that this prayer had come from deep inside me.

I rolled over and eventually drifted back to sleep. It was two weeks before I saw Christine again.

“I’ve converted,” she said.

Excuse me?

I was pretty sure I heard her wrong. My friend, the atheist, the wiccan—was converted?

“The other night I had a horrible dream. I woke up and I was shaking. Hell is real. God is real. I fell out of bed and called out to Him.”

Some of you think I’m making this up. I’m not.

I don’t know what happened to Christine, because she moved away and I lost touch with her. But I believe that when she cried out to God, He heard her. And I believe the truth I shared about what Jesus has done for me will not return void.

I’m not sure why I told you this story, other than  maybe someone needs to hear it today.

God is powerful.

And He’s got it all under control. 

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 Bekah Hamrick Martin is grateful to be His child.