Peggy, the lady who among a million other things arranges my travel, had already alerted me about possible trouble ahead on this trip. "Pastor, as soon as your plane lands you'll need to go as quickly as possible to a driver who will be waiting to rush you on to the conference to speak. You'll have absolutely no time to waste."
The driver's welcome was, "Hi, I'm Sam and my job is to get you to the meeting on time to preach. It's twenty-five miles away, and we're already behind schedule." Immediately I liked Sam. He was bright eyed, energetic, casually dressed, straight-forward, and an athletic looking young married man.
"Brother Bobby, I've been in FAITH Sunday School Evangelism Training for several semesters and it has changed my life!" he declared. Now, I doubly liked Sam! As we briskly exited the airport and walked toward the curb, he said, "Jump in!" My puzzled reply was, "Jump into what?" He quickly pointed and responded, "My police car."
Of course, I had seen it – it's hard to miss a police car sitting directly in front of you with the passenger's door already opened. He wasn't wearing a uniform, and I had not expected a police car. Sam and the airport security officer gave each other a thumbs-up as we both literally "jumped in!"
As I reached to close my door, I almost had a heart attack! No joke! Every other siren I've ever heard gradually got louder as it came closer and closer but not this one!
When Sam hit that police siren it was like killer bees had struck me! I thought it was in my shirt, my head, my ears, my nose, and up my pants' leg! Simultaneously, he floored the gas pedal, and tires squalled as the vehicle launched forward causing my door to crash closed. Instantly I had the distinct sensation of being swallowed by a giant screaming vibrator! Sam had his radio microphone up to his mouth, and I knew exactly what he was about to say, "Houston, we have a launch!"
At times we reached – and even exceeded – 90 m.p.h.. More than once we were over into the median or off on the shoulder in order to pass slower traffic. No stopping and little slowing at any traffic signal lights. Almost all the drive time (fright time!), Sam was calmly relating to me one of the extraordinary ways he uses the FAITH outline to witness to traffic violators he stops along the highways of his city. He always gives them the lightest fine possible and never says anything about FAITH until the ticket is written and business is concluded. After asking permission, Sam inquires, "In your personal opinion, what do you understand it takes for a person to go to heaven?" Eighteen people have happily prayed to receive Christ!
Most memorable was his account of stopping one particular speeder. There was a woman driver and a male passenger, neither of whom spoke English very well. After they received a short "lecture" on speeding and a ticket for a seat belt violation, Sam kindly asked FAITH's key question, "In your personal opinion, what do you believe it takes for a person to go to heaven?" Immediately and very animatedly the man began to wave his hands and shake his head negatively while shouting in broken English, "DO NOT SPEED! DO NOT SPEED!" The gentleman had not completely understood the question but he had learned an important lesson.
We both laughed at the thought of that scene. Then Sam said the lady confessed that recently she had been thinking about those kinds of spiritual things and asked Sam if he could explain the answer. Sam said, "Thanks to FAITH, I could and did." They then prayed to receive Jesus as their Savior!
Oh, yes, Sam got me to the conference just in time to preach. As I left the police car I smiled, frantically waved my hands, and shook my head while shouting, "DO NOT SPEED! DO NOT SPEED!" Sam laughed and gave me a thumbs-up.
Then I thought how often I do speed. Yes, hurrying through my daily life — racing right past so many people — many of whom would appreciate someone stopping long enough to try to answer some spiritual questions and share the love of Christ with them. Do you ever do that? So, I guess the guy in the car had a good word for us, too: DO NOT SPEED! DONOT SPEED!