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By Guest Writer Rupali Hofmann
I was raised in a Hindu home. Sunday mornings at our house in California were all about reading the paper, drinking tea, and being together. Each Sunday at around 10:15, I'd watch our neighbor Bob come out of his house with a big book under his arm. He'd back the car out of the garage, and wait for his wife, Jean, and their three children. They were always dressed up.
My family took turns trying to guess where they were going. My mother thought they were going to visit their grandparents, my father thought they were going out to a restaurant. I knew two things for sure. First, the place they were visiting must be really important, because I kept hearing the words “hurry up” and “we're late.” I also knew that wherever they were going, they always read this same, big book which Bob carried each week.
It seemed as if we lived such different lives, and other than an occasional wave from our cars, we hardly had any contact.
Last year, almost thirty years since those Sunday mornings, we were celebrating my parent’s 50th wedding anniversary. Most of the neighbors were invited. Bob and Jean were there, and I went over to talk with them. Suddenly, Bob leaned closer and lowered his voice. “I hear you're a Christian now,” he whispered, as if we were both part of a secret society.
I know you and I don't believe we belong to a secret society. Sometimes, though, we act as if we do by keeping our faith to ourselves and to our “safe” Christian friends. I often wonder why, during two years of high school, four years of college, and a few years of working in the United States, not one person introduced me to Jesus. And when I was told of his amazing grace and love, it was from my own younger sister.
We belong to the living God who wants to refresh the parents on the sidelines of our kids' games, renew our classmates, bring peace to the people who live in our retirement home, dorm, or apartment building, and bring hope to our co-workers in the office.
And he wants to do all this through you and me.
A few years ago I met a young mother in the park. We spoke frequently after that, chatting about wanting to be good mothers, what we were going to make for dinner at night, and how we were going to lose the last 10 pounds. After sharing our lives for a year, she asked me, “Rupali, what difference does following Jesus make in your life anyway?”
What a great question. I had to think before I told her all the ways Jesus had calmed my fears, given me hope, helped me forgive, and washed away my shame. Are you ready to give an answer to that question? What difference does following Jesus make in your life? I encourage you to think, write, and share with others so you are ready to tell your story to a broken world who needs to hear.
Back to our neighbors Bob and Jean. At the anniversary celebration, Bob asked if I was glad I'd moved away from California. I told him my new town felt more and more like home but that it was hard for me to leave my parents without them knowing Jesus.
"When you go on your morning walks, Bob, would you please include my Dad?" I asked. "And when your wife goes to Safeway, could she ask my mother to join her?"
He said he would. And I'm happy to report that three weeks ago, Bob and Jean invited my Hindu parents to their home for coffee.
copyright 2007 Rupali Hofmann
I was raised in a Hindu home. Sunday mornings at our house in California were all about reading the paper, drinking tea, and being together. Each Sunday at around 10:15, I'd watch our neighbor Bob come out of his house with a big book under his arm. He'd back the car out of the garage, and wait for his wife, Jean, and their three children. They were always dressed up.
My family took turns trying to guess where they were going. My mother thought they were going to visit their grandparents, my father thought they were going out to a restaurant. I knew two things for sure. First, the place they were visiting must be really important, because I kept hearing the words “hurry up” and “we're late.” I also knew that wherever they were going, they always read this same, big book which Bob carried each week.
It seemed as if we lived such different lives, and other than an occasional wave from our cars, we hardly had any contact.
Last year, almost thirty years since those Sunday mornings, we were celebrating my parent’s 50th wedding anniversary. Most of the neighbors were invited. Bob and Jean were there, and I went over to talk with them. Suddenly, Bob leaned closer and lowered his voice. “I hear you're a Christian now,” he whispered, as if we were both part of a secret society.
I know you and I don't believe we belong to a secret society. Sometimes, though, we act as if we do by keeping our faith to ourselves and to our “safe” Christian friends. I often wonder why, during two years of high school, four years of college, and a few years of working in the United States, not one person introduced me to Jesus. And when I was told of his amazing grace and love, it was from my own younger sister.
We belong to the living God who wants to refresh the parents on the sidelines of our kids' games, renew our classmates, bring peace to the people who live in our retirement home, dorm, or apartment building, and bring hope to our co-workers in the office.
And he wants to do all this through you and me.
A few years ago I met a young mother in the park. We spoke frequently after that, chatting about wanting to be good mothers, what we were going to make for dinner at night, and how we were going to lose the last 10 pounds. After sharing our lives for a year, she asked me, “Rupali, what difference does following Jesus make in your life anyway?”
What a great question. I had to think before I told her all the ways Jesus had calmed my fears, given me hope, helped me forgive, and washed away my shame. Are you ready to give an answer to that question? What difference does following Jesus make in your life? I encourage you to think, write, and share with others so you are ready to tell your story to a broken world who needs to hear.
Back to our neighbors Bob and Jean. At the anniversary celebration, Bob asked if I was glad I'd moved away from California. I told him my new town felt more and more like home but that it was hard for me to leave my parents without them knowing Jesus.
"When you go on your morning walks, Bob, would you please include my Dad?" I asked. "And when your wife goes to Safeway, could she ask my mother to join her?"
He said he would. And I'm happy to report that three weeks ago, Bob and Jean invited my Hindu parents to their home for coffee.
copyright 2007 Rupali Hofmann
