Take a cab by faith
'I have to say, this week has been severely hard on my wallet and bank account. I lost my monthly travel card (again - for the second time in 1 month!!!!), my Oyster (prepaid travel card) was out of credit and ended up paying extra by cash for buses, dental costs, and to cap it all, I have been running late in the mornings one too many times that I've had to take the cab to work in the mornings (London cabs is mind-blowingly expensive!) not once, not twice but thrice this week!!!!
This morning, I wasn't running late though I did miss my ideal early train as I wanted to go in early to prepare for a presentation at work. But as I watched the early train leave the station, I vehemently protested against the idea of catching my 3rd cab to work.
But this morning there seemed to be a bemused voice in my head urging me to take the cab. And for only one reason; not that I will be early enough at the office to prepare sufficiently for the presentation, but so that I can ask the cab driver a question, "Who do you think Jesus is?"
I began to vehemently protest against the idea of catching the cab not because of the financial cost but from fear of asking the question. And then the Lord pointed out that He will give me the money to catch the cab, and seemed to dryly add that all that I have is His anyway so what am I complaining about.
My feet reluctantly trod to the direction of the mini-cab office which they now recognise my face and I did hope it would be Abdul, my driver for the last two times who is a lovely gentle and kind man - PRAY that he knows the joy of the saving grace that comes from Jesus alone!
But as the office coordinator shouted out for "B05! B05! This lady is late for work!", another chap appeared. His name is Najeeb.
As I sat in the cab I was inwardly asking nervously for help from the Holy Spirit on how to ask the question in my heart without seeming like a fanatic wanting to impose my beliefs on him.
I asked him where he's from.
From Afghanistan he replies. Then a bit of idle chatter.
I asked him what those beads hanging on his rear view mirror was and he responded that it was prayer beads. Similar to some Christians he pointed out to which I explained the difference between Catholics and to those who merely believe in Jesus.
And I begged God inwardly again to help me to voice the words. I didn't want to just blurt out, "Who do you think Jesus is!?!!!" out of the blue. But Najeeb led by asking me questions and giving interesting responses to which despite my fears (residue of the silence imposed on myself after a number of years in secondary school of being mocked for my outspoken faith), I excitedly spoke to him of my thoughts and experience.
Then the question came, naturally, in line with what we were talking about. I liked when he said, "This is the first time I've heard this. I know Christians claim Jesus as the Son of God but you say he is God."
And we talked about Jesus owning all that the Father has because He is the Father's Son and we talked about how we're never going to be good enough on our own accord. I told him to not speak about people who kill and murder, even for me, when my housemates don't clean the house and I gripe I am already sinning. We will never get there on our own.
He mentioned then that the first thing about Islam is cleanliness. They have to be in an absolute state of cleanliness before entering the prayer room, before they can pray. I then told him about how Jesus gives us His clean cloak while he took our dirty ones and so when the Father judges, He sees His Son's robe on us as Jesus takes the punishment of our sins on His shoulders.
Before he dropped me off at the office, he spoke of being interested to sit down and talk to someone about religion - any religion. I wasn't quite sure how to urge him on, but invited him to a ceilidh dance which will be held in my church at the end of the month and gave him the date, time and postcode where the church is. As I told him that it will be lovely to meet him again, I truly meant it and know he saw that and as he said he would like to join that night, I know he meant it as well.
Pray for Najeeb that he will join the ceilidh, pray that he will meet other fellow Christians who will have the love of God strong and true in their hearts and that he will be ever increasingly encouraged to seek the Lord. Pray that he will know Jesus as Lord and Saviour. Pray that you will meet him, if not on earth, then in heaven, because you will dearly love him. You will see the gentleness that shines through his eyes, and the depth of intelligence that he never had the opportunity to explore because of war and unrest in his country (his own father studied in an American university long ago). You will love his humble simplicity as I did when he questioned how can Jesus as son be the same as the Father, like how he felt his own earthly father is in the sky who studied in America, while he is on earth, because he is just a taxi driver.
As I walked into my office I felt like I was hovering above the ground. Shamefully, me speaking about God to others is rare and far between and so when I do it is such an exciting thing that I need to share it! I was thanking the Lord for making me catch a cab and speak with Najeeb, and giving me a comfortable cab ride to boot (since He paid for it albeit through my own wallet).
Cost of sharing God's love? Priceless.'