During halftime of a college football game, I began passing out a few gospel tracts. I had only handed out three tracts when a middle aged lady asked if she could have one. I told her that it was a gospel tract and in a slurred voice she began to tell me that all preachers are money- hungry fakes. I wasn't sure if she was intoxicated or mentally disabled but before I could make a diagnosis, her husband Brian came up beside her. I asked Brian if he felt the same way about preachers and, fortunately, he seemed a bit more sane. I listened to Brian share about his beliefs and found that he missed one core ingredient to his faith. He knew about the Bible, he didn't argue that he was a sinner, he even believed in God, but he never once said the name Jesus. Brian was about to walk away when I said, "Before you leave, I want you to know that you forgot about the Name above all names." He replied, "Who, God?" I said "Yes, Jesus specifically." Brian suddenly forgot that he had somewhere to be and he stopped and listened as I shared about the price that was paid on the cross. I wish you could have seen the look on his face as I suddenly had his undivided attention. He now understands the gospel, and I had the privilege of telling him.
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