I went into this past summer as an intern with the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association praying that God would let me suffer for the sake of the Gospel. I did not know that He would answer my prayer in the form of a towering, grizzled war veteran.

In June, BGEA interns partnered with Samaritan’s Purse and the Billy Graham Rapid Response Team (BG-RRT) chaplains for a week, ministering to homeowners after a tornado pummeled their town. One day, I shadowed a BG-RRT chaplain alongside a fellow intern who was preparing to become a pastor.

We visited a home after Samaritan’s Purse volunteers finished clearing the lawn, which was littered with storm debris. There, we met a man—whom I will call Ben—pacing in his front yard, awaiting our arrival. We followed him into his home, the chaplain first, with my friend and I trailing closely behind.

As we entered the dark living room, an old western played on TV. Among the items strewn across Ben’s coffee table was a Bible gifted by Samaritan’s Purse.

When we sat down on the messy couch, Ben asked, “Now, what are you here to talk to me about?”

The chaplain shared the Gospel, but every time he mentioned Christ’s forgiveness, Ben’s eyes grew wider and angrier. A Vietnam veteran, Ben carried tremendous shame for his wartime atrocities. He also admitted to being a thief. Not only could Ben not forgive himself, he couldn’t fathom God forgiving him.

 

While threatening to unleash his pit bull on us at any moment, he also reached behind his couch to reveal a suspicious medium-sized blue pack, which he placed beside him on the couch, all the while staring us down hatefully.

“You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’ve done,” was Ben’s bitter response. “I’ve slaughtered villages. Anything that moved, I slaughtered. You don’t know what I could do to you.”

Whenever he grew tired of hearing the chaplain sharing the Gospel, Ben challenged my friend and me. He asked what we saints—in his eyes—needed Christ’s forgiveness for, and he demanded that we name those sins out loud.

Then, the Holy Spirit pressed on my heart to make the Gospel personal. Feeling a gut-wrenching compassion for the cold-hearted man in front of me, I shared my testimony like never before, including how I had repented of an unconfessed sin. Though hearing my own testimony spoken out loud startled me, I felt that the Lord was giving me courage to speak words that had long sat dormant inside of me.

For 90 minutes, we spoke with Ben, witnessing and silently praying. I wanted to hug him, because every time it seemed that he was ready to repent, he came up with another excuse for why God could not forgive him. He continued to berate us and challenge us.

“I’ve struggled with lust,” Ben confessed as he fixed his gaze uncomfortably on me.

Prompted by the Holy Spirit, the chaplain shared about the man on the cross who asked Jesus to remember him when he entered His Kingdom.

“Jesus said to him, ‘Today you will be with me in paradise,’” the chaplain quoted from Scripture. “Do you know that man’s profession? He was a thief.”

Suddenly, Ben’s eyes softened as he contemplated how God might even forgive a thief like him.

The chaplain asked, “Can you think of any reason why you shouldn’t ask Jesus for forgiveness right now?”

Ben’s brow furrowed and he said simply, “I can’t really think of anything.”

So, in amazement, we all knelt in prayer while Ben asked Jesus to forgive him of his sins and become his Savior and Lord.

When we stood up, Ben seemed like a different person. A big smile spread across his face, and he asked us to leave so he could spend time alone with Jesus.

None of us could wrap our heads around what had happened. But two days later, when we were supposed to meet with Ben again, we couldn’t find him.

After nearly a week, with no communication from Ben, doubt crept into our minds about the sincerity of his profession of faith in Christ. For six days, in God’s waiting room, we prayed, fervently begging Him for Ben’s salvation.

Shortly after we returned to BGEA headquarters in Charlotte, North Carolina, the chaplain texted us. God was allowing him to meet with Ben later that day. Again, we prayed for the transforming power of the Holy Spirit to work in Ben’s life.

About an hour later, we received confirmation. Our prayers had come to fruition.

“Ben basically has gone from ‘I can kill you’ to ‘I love you,’” the chaplain said.

We had witnessed firsthand what Paul writes about in 1 Corinthians 3:7, that it is “only God who gives the growth.” By God’s grace, even though we were intimidated, we had become bold for the Gospel. By God’s grace, we relied on Him for the strength to obey. And by His grace, He allowed us to rejoice in the evidence of a life radically transformed by the hope of the Gospel.

And through all that happened in one man’s home, I witnessed firsthand what Jesus meant in Mark 13:11, “Say whatever is given you in that hour, for it is not you who speak, but the Holy Spirit” (ESV). ©2024 BGEA

Isabella Agnello is a student at Cedarville University, majoring in broadcasting, digital media and journalism.