2 Timothy 4:2
One night in Chicago, many years ago, when I was on my way home I saw a man leaning against a lamp post. Stepping up to him and placing my hand on his shoulder, I said,
“Are you a Christian?”
The man flew into a rage, doubled up his fist and I thought he was going to pitch me into the gutter.
I said, “I’m very sorry if I’ve offended you, but I thought I was asking a proper question.”
“Mind your own business,” he roared.
“That is my business,” I answered.
About three months later, on a bitter cold morning about daybreak, someone knocked at my door.
“Who’s there?” I asked.
A stranger answered, and I said, “What do you want?”
“I want to become a Christian,” was the reply.
I opened the door, and to my astonishment there was the man who had cursed me for talking to him as he leaned against the lamp post.
He said, “I’m very sorry. I haven’t had any peace since that night. Your words have haunted and troubled me. I couldn’t sleep last night, and I thought I’d come and get you to pray for me.”
That man accepted Christ, and the moment he had done so, asked:
“What can I do for Him?”
He taught in the Sunday school until the war broke out, when he enlisted, and was one of the first to be shot down, but not before he had given a ringing testimony for God.