May the Words of my Mouth and the Testimony of my Knees...

I don’t know if anyone’s knees could be considered particularly beautiful but mine are definitely not so. They’re rough, calloused, knobbly, occasionally swollen and look a bit like I’m recovering from perpetually falling over, mostly due to so much time spent crawling around on them chasing after, playing with and cleaning up after little kids.

I have a healthy respect for knees, believe me. It only takes a few months of them not working for one to realise how valuable those seemingly inconsequential joints truly are! But apart from when they’re not working, I don’t really think of them much. I’ve certainly never considered them beautiful.

And I never would have guessed in my craziest imaginings that God would ever use them to start a conversation with someone about himself.

Ever.

But that’s just what he did. As he does.

I was spending the day with a group of friends who aren’t Christians when not one but two of them asked (completely separate of each other) whether my knees are so calloused because I spend so much time praying. I don’t know whether they’d been talking about it between themselves or whether they just both thought alike. Either way, I found the question amusing. And boy, did I wish I could have said yes! Instead, I told them the truth – that while I pray lots, and do kneel sometimes, mostly it’s just wherever I am at the time. And left it at that.

The topic changed after that and we chatted about different things but I was buzzing with excitement to be asked such a thing twice. It might not have seemed much to anyone else, but it felt huge to me.

See, I go out of my way not to talk about God to that particular group of friends. Not only are they not Christians, but they’ve told me in no uncertain terms that they have no intention of becoming so. They’ve known people who called themselves Christians in the past, been hurt by them, and made their decision about God.

It seems a strange thing for God to say, but he told me not long after I met these friends not to try to convert them. Don’t invite them to church. Don't try to bring up God in everyday discussion. Don’t go out of my way to tell them what I believe or use any other subtle approaches – which usually aren’t as subtle as we think. Just be their friend. Think long term, not short term. Be a Christian, without talking about it. Show them who God is without words. Don’t start arguments or debates, just be there.

So, weird an instruction as it seemed, that’s what I’ve done. Which is why it’s so cool when they are the ones to bring up God in a conversation and I get the chance to say something, small as it may be, about what I believe.

Occasionally I wonder, while I’m desperately praying they find God, if maybe I heard God wrong and should be trying to find ways to tell them about him. What if they die and I never took the chance to tell them about Jesus? After all, it’s almost counter-biblical to be silent. 

But then moments like these come up, and I realise not only that they’re thinking about God but that they’re noticing the difference he makes in me. And I realise that not saying anything is one of the greatest witnesses I can have to this particular group of friends at this particular time. They don’t need another Christian trying to change them, they need a friend showing them what Jesus’ love really looks like. Who Jesus really is.

I think we’d all be surprised if we really knew how much others are watching us. And how much of our lives God is already using to impact others for him. The things we say. The priorities we have. The decisions we make. The way we react to tough situations – and tough people. They're watching, and, whether we realise or not, often making their decision on God based on what they see of him in us. 

For some people, that might be a horrifying thought but for me, it's an incredible encouragement. Even while I am silent, God is working. Through me. In spite of me. Because he is greater and knows more about those other people and what is going on in their hearts than I ever could.

And one day, I truly believe they will come to know Jesus for themselves, not as they once thought he was, but as he really is. Maybe I'll even have the privilege of praying with them as they accept him into their own lives.

But for now, my job is to keep silent, pray unceasingly and trust that God is working in their lives in ways I could never imagine. Because God is always working and can use anything to speak into a person’s life.

Even something as inconsequential as my knobbly, calloused knees.