FIRST-PERSON: Three souls find salvation in shadow of Southwestern’s campus

A literal stone’s throw from the railroad tracks bordering the seminary campus sits a bungalow on Wayside Avenue. Inside, an elderly woman chats with a friend who’s cutting her granddaughter’s hair, while the girl’s teenage brother patters about the house in search of something to do on a quiet Friday afternoon in December.

We rattle the old screen door with our knocking. “Hola,” says the woman.

“Hi. My name is Mark, and this is my friend Eddie. We’re from Southwestern Seminary—the school right over there,” I say, thumbing over my shoulder to Mathena Hall, visible through the trees behind us. “We teach pastors and missionaries how to tell people about Jesus all over the world. And we want to tell you about Jesus, too. Can we come in?”

“Sí.” I open the door and step across the threshold, Eddie’s hand on my shoulder. “My friend is blind,” I say as I lead him through the narrow space between the barstool haircut still in progress and an empty sofa. The elderly woman nods understandingly.

We sit, and Eddie starts to translate into Spanish what I said in my introduction. I pray for him. And for them. He ends by asking if we can share “the colors,” the wordless book on a little plastic wristband. The elderly woman says we can, and we can even do it in English.

We rotate through the colors—yellow, black, red, white and green—sharing Scriptures on heaven and sin and Christ’s sacrifice and forgiveness and growing in Christ. Along the way, we pause to ask them, “Have you ever broken God’s rules?” They indicate they have.

“Have you ever asked Jesus to save you the way we just talked about?” The girl and boy say, “No.” But the elderly woman says, “Yes.”

“Wow,” I say. “What a great day that was. I’d love to hear about it!”

She remembers being sick and someone praying with her, but it’s hard to understand what happened; difficult to know where she stands. Where do I take it from here?

While I’m trying to figure that out, the teenager wanders off. I’m losing him, and now I’m losing my train of thought, too!

What about the girl? She’s still here. Ask her.

“Sweetie, have you ever asked Jesus to save you the way we just talked about?” She shakes her head. “Would you want to accept Him right now?”

“Yes,” she says. “What about you,” I ask the haircutter. She isn’t interested.

I turn back to the elderly woman, but now the teenage boy is in the kitchen again, rummaging through the refrigerator. I call him over. “I have one more question. It’s more important than the others….”

“Okay,” he says as he settles back onto the seat next to me, energy drink in hand. Somehow engaged again, his disinterest melts away as I ask if he’s willing to accept Jesus as his Savior and Lord as well. “I am,” he says.

“Why don’t we do this? Why don’t we all pray together the things I shared with you? Just settle this once and for all in your hearts. Those of you who want to.”

They agree. Even the elderly woman. And they pray the sinner’s prayer. Those three souls, who never heard the Gospel before. In that little bungalow. A stone’s throw from the seminary.

*Mark Leeds serves as registrar at Southwestern Seminary.