I hadn’t really thought of it before. To be the first Christian someone had ever met. I didn’t care much of what people would think of me but what would they think of Jesus after they did meet me?

Would I represent Him well? Would they want to know more about Him? Would Jesus be attractive to them? Would they feel His love? Know His forgiveness? Experience His power? Or would I say or do something that would close their hearts to Him? Would they judge all future Christians by what they saw in me? I began to think it is a great responsibility to be the first Christian someone would meet.

But now here I was. Standing in the tent of a Tibetan Nomad who had never met a Christian before. She was an old woman with wrinkles deeply carved into her face by the wind, the cold and the intense sunlight of the high altitude. She sat on the dirt floor cooking over a fire made of yak dung. The tent was filled with a thick haze of smoke. She looked at the strangers standing before her. Who were we? Where did we come from? Why were we there? Continue reading →