The Hearts of Men

"I would like to practice English with you if you are free."

I glance at the clock.

It's 1:30 am.

I'm in Tokyo, talking to a physically disabled man, who speaks some of the best English I've found in Japan.

I'm trying to see if this is an opportunity to share the gospel.

We hobble our way to a soup place. He is leaning on me almost the whole way.

I don't know how this man is traveling by himself.

We talk about simple things, as I begin to eat my food and he struggles with the chopsticks.

For all intents and purposes this dinner turns out to be a disaster.

Soup gets spilled almost immediately

Condiments are almost everywhere but the soup

He starts falling asleep as we eat and chat

People are looking at us.

I finally decide that his english is good enough, and start turning the conversation to Jesus.

He has heard the stories.

"So, what do you think about Jesus?"

His response is both quick and blunt.

"I don't care."

I'm a little taken aback, and perhaps it shows.

"Japanese people, for the most part, we don't care about God."

The conversation slowly trails off from there, and we make our way back to the hostel.

As I lay in bed, I mentally run through all the people I've proclaimed the good news too, and how this that have been interested have been a grand total of 0.

It isn't my responsibility to change hearts, that is a job for God alone.

It is my our responsibility to proclaim the good news.

This alone changes how I pray.

Why don't you change more hearts, God?

You had mercy on me, a sinner. Please extend that to those that live in darkness, that don't know you.

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