Christian testimonies: The diary of a street preacher

WHAT DO I DO WHEN I SET OUT TO WITNESS AND NO ONE SEEMS TO BE LISTENING?

Greetings and salutations

Greetings and salutations to all our readers!

I want to begin by thanking the Lord Almighty and my Lord Jesus Christ for the opportunity to be part of the great work He is doing for His people through His people. If I could, I would give Him a great big hug, because while I was still a sinner, Christ died for me. What an incredible demonstration of love!

I would also like to pay special tribute to everyone who has been reading our posts, encouraging us, and sharing stories of what God has been doing in your lives. Your support means a great deal to me, and it is wonderful to hear how the Lord continues to work in the lives of His people.

All glory belongs to God!

With that said, I would like to share another story from my journey as an evangelist. This is a story about courage, rejection, unexpected encounters, and the lessons God continues to teach me about sharing the gospel.

But before we begin, I want us to consider a question.

What happens when you witness and no one seems to be listening?

How it all started

There are days in this life when your journey feels as though it is going somewhere and nowhere at the same time.

Imagine yourself as a messenger being sent to share a specific message with the people. Like the prophets of old such as Jeremiah. You try and reason it out, or like Moses who thought God had picked the wrong guy. But deep down you know, you have a mission to accomplish, not to please men, but to please God.

You then spend a great deal of time reaching out to people who seem to show little or no interest in what you have to say. Some dismiss you before you even get the opportunity to speak. Others listen for a moment and then carry on with their lives as though nothing has happened.

And there you are, left wondering: Is it my approach? Did I do something wrong? Am I saying the wrong things? Should I have done something differently?

These are questions I have had to confront on my own journey.

Today, I may find myself standing on a street corner with a microphone in one hand and a Bible in the other, ready to preach to anyone willing to listen. But it was not always like that.

In the beginning, I was shy. I found it difficult to approach people, and although I had a desire to share my faith, putting that desire into practice was another matter altogether.

I sometimes think that my faith was smaller than a mustard seed, but somewhere deep inside me was a desire to tell people about Jesus.

I wanted to share what He had done in my life. I wanted others to experience the hope I had found. The challenge was that I did not know where to begin.

So, like many people who are trying to learn something new, I started watching videos. I watched countless evangelism videos and attended various evangelism training programmes, hoping that something would give me the courage to go out and do what I had been learning.

I was gathering knowledge, taking in information, and preparing myself.

But eventually, I had to make a decision.

I could continue watching other people share the gospel, or I could take a step of faith and begin doing it myself.

And that is where my story really began.

A sandwich, a Bible verse and a little courage

One day, I decided to make a simple start.

I prepared a batch of sandwiches and set out into the neighbourhood where I was staying. My plan was straightforward: I would approach people experiencing homelessness, offer them a sandwich, share a Bible verse, and give them a small New Testament Bible.

That was my strategy.

I did not have a microphone. I was not standing before a crowd. I did not have a long sermon prepared or a collection of impressive words that would leave people amazed.

In fact, I stumbled over my words.

Sometimes, all I could manage was something as simple as, "Jesus loves you."

But do you know what I loved about that experience?

I was doing something I had never really done before. I was taking the faith I had been learning about and putting it into practice.

There was something special about stepping out of my comfort zone, approaching another person, and attempting to share the good news of Jesus Christ.

I was learning as I went along.

Eventually, I became more comfortable approaching the people I met. What had once seemed difficult began to feel more natural. I started getting to know the people I was reaching out to, and before long, something else happened.

Within a week, I had recruited a friend to join me (who also helped me prepare the sandwiches).

Now we were two people going on our little adventure, preparing sandwiches and sharing them with people experiencing homelessness. We would go out together, offering food, sharing Scripture, and trying to make a difference in the lives of those we encountered.

Looking back, I can see that God was teaching me something important.

I did not need to begin with a large ministry, a huge budget, a big audience, or a perfect presentation. I needed to be willing to take the first step.

Sometimes, we spend so much time preparing ourselves for the work God has placed on our hearts that we delay the very thing we are preparing to do.

We tell ourselves that we need more knowledge, more confidence, more training, or a better plan.

And while learning and preparation are important, there comes a time when we must put what we have learned into practice. Isn't that how the Scriptures become alive to us, when we actually put them to use?

For me, that first step involved a few sandwiches, a Bible verse, and the courage to say, "Jesus loves you."

Little did I know how much that simple beginning would shape my journey.

When the world came to a standstill

Then COVID-19 arrived, and my little project came to a halt.

Suddenly, the routine I had begun to enjoy was interrupted. I thought about the people I had met, the people we had been helping, and the opportunity to continue sharing the gospel with them.

There was a sense of emptiness because something that had become part of my life was no longer possible in the same way.

But I trusted that God would make a way for me to continue serving Him.

Eventually, as restrictions were relaxed and opportunities returned, I was able to resume my mission.

Yet something had changed in me.

I had tasted the joy of sharing the gospel, and I wanted to do more. I wanted to grow in my ability to reach people, to communicate the message more effectively, and to become more useful in the work of evangelism.

I was no longer content simply to watch others do what I had once been afraid to do.

I wanted to keep growing.

And as time went on, opportunities opened up for me to minister to different people in different circumstances.

Fast-forward to today, and I find myself spending much of my time sharing the gospel in public spaces, speaking to strangers, meeting people from different walks of life, and learning lessons that no training video could ever fully prepare me for.

I have come a long way from the young man who struggled to approach someone with a sandwich in his hand.

But I am still learning.

And one of the biggest lessons I am learning is that not everyone will be willing to listen.

From sandwiches to the Microphone

Today is a brand-new day, and guess what?

I am going to change the world!

At least, that is what I told myself as I prepared to head out onto the streets.

I have all my tools in my backpack. I have done this so many times that I feel I could almost do it with my eyes closed. I know the message, I know what I want to say, and I am ready to go out and tell people about Jesus.

Soon, I find myself standing with a microphone in one hand and a Bible in the other.

This is my pulpit.

There is no church building, no congregation sitting neatly in rows, and certainly no guarantee that anyone will give me their attention. Instead, I have the streets, the passing traffic, the vendors going about their business, and people trying to get through another ordinary day.

Today's setting is the corner near Rivonia Mall.

I begin preaching, calling people to repentance and reminding them of their need to turn to God. In my mind, I picture John the Baptist proclaiming his message in the wilderness, calling people to prepare the way of the Lord.

But the reality before me is rather different.

The vendors exchange surprised glances. "Who is this guy with his microphone and speaker?", some of them whisper not far from my ears reach.

Some people look at me as though they are trying to figure out what this man is doing with a microphone on the street corner. Others continue with their business, seemingly unaffected by the message. Some actually stop to ask questions or simply listen.

I suppose I am quite a spectacle.

Here I am, ready to change the world, while the world around me appears to have other plans!

But I keep going.

After all, I did not come out simply to hold a microphone. I came out because I believe the gospel is worth sharing. I guess that's all that matters, right?

Then something unexpected happens.

As I continue preaching, a man who appears to be intoxicated approaches me and tries to grab my microphone.

Now, if you have ever preached in public, you will know that things do not always go according to plan. You can prepare your message, organise your thoughts, and rehearse your opening words, but you cannot always predict what will happen when you step onto those streets.

This was one of those moments.

For a moment, I catch myself thinking that the devil must have sent this man to interrupt the message.

But I quickly challenge and dismiss that thought.

Is it right for me to see this man merely as an obstacle to my preaching? Is he simply someone standing in the way of what I have come to do?

I begin to look at the situation differently.

Perhaps this is a man who is struggling. Perhaps there are things happening in his life that I know nothing about. Perhaps, beneath the behaviour that everyone can see, there is a human being who needs help. Maybe God sent him to test me?

I remembered the Jesus I had come out to preach about.

Did Jesus not draw near to the lost, the brokenhearted, and those whom society often overlooked?

If I am going to speak about His love, surely I must also consider how I will respond when that love is tested in an unexpected way.

The man manages to get hold of the microphone and begins making remarks that are difficult to understand. I chose not to resist him physically and allowed the situation to unfold without turning it into a confrontation.

What happens next is something I have not anticipated.

A taxi driver, who has been listening to my sermon from a distance, steps in to intervene. He becomes angry with the man and threatens to beat him up.

Suddenly, what was already an unusual preaching session becomes a public spectacle. Taxi passengers have also been listening to the message, and now their attention has shifted to the confrontation unfolding before them.

There I am, preaching about repentance, and the entire scene has turned into an unexpected drama!

But I still have a message to finish.

Is a Broken World Normal?

I did not allow the interruption to stop me from completing my message. Instead, I used the encounter to illustrate the plight of people who desperately need help and prayer, yet are often dismissed, laughed at, or treated as though their struggles are simply part of everyday life.

I want to make something clear: I am not sharing this story to mock the man or make light of his condition. His behaviour was disruptive, and the situation could easily have escalated. But beyond the incident itself was a person whose life I knew very little about.

And that matters.

We live in a world where it is easy to become accustomed to seeing people suffer. We see people struggling with addiction, poverty, homelessness, and other difficult circumstances, and after a while, their struggles can begin to look ordinary to us.

We pass them on our way to work. We see them on street corners. We hear their voices and observe their behaviour. Sometimes we stop to help, but often we continue walking.

Eventually, we risk accepting things that should never become normal simply because we see them so frequently.

Points to ponder on

I often wonder what it means when the world God created is filled with so much pain and brokenness. What happens to our hearts when we can witness another person's struggle and feel nothing at all?

These are not easy questions, but I believe they are worth asking.

The man who interrupted my preaching may have appeared to be the problem that day. Yet the encounter forced me to consider a deeper question: was I prepared to demonstrate the compassion of the Jesus I was preaching about?

It is one thing to tell people to repent. It is another to remember that the people standing before us are human beings who need the grace of God.

Both truths matter.

The apology I didn't expect

There is another part of this story that I have never forgotten.

Some time later, I encountered the same man in a different location. This time, he was sober.

He recognised me and apologised for what had happened. He addressed me as "Baba Mfundisi", a respectful isiZulu term commonly used for a pastor or preacher.

I immediately embraced him and reassured him that it was Okay. I had been talking to someone when he approached and there God had allowed me to meet the man again.

That moment meant something to me.

The man who had once interrupted my sermon was now standing before me in a completely different state of mind. We were able to meet without the confrontation that had marked our previous encounter.

I cannot claim to know everything that had happened in his life or what God was doing in his heart. I do not know the full story beyond the moments I witnessed.

But I was grateful for the opportunity to meet him again, to welcome him without holding the earlier incident against him, and to recognise that he was more than the behaviour I had seen on that street corner.

It reminded me how easily we can reduce people to a single moment.

We remember the person who shouted at us, the one who insulted us, or the one who interrupted what we were trying to do. We may forget that there is a whole life behind that moment, a life we have barely begun to understand.

I left that encounter with a renewed appreciation for the importance of patience and compassion.

Sometimes, we meet people at difficult moments in their lives. We may not know what has brought them there, and we may never discover the full story. But we can choose not to let one difficult encounter determine how we see them forever.

Back to my question.

What do you do when nobody seems to be listening?

This brings me back to the question at the heart of this article.

What do you do when you witness and no one seems to be listening?

First, you keep your eyes on the One who called you.

There will be days when people listen attentively and days when they walk away. There will be moments when you feel encouraged and others when you wonder whether your efforts are making any difference.

But we must remember that our responsibility is to share the gospel faithfully, not to force people to believe.

Jesus Himself taught His disciples that there would be places where people would not welcome their message. In Matthew 10:14, He instructed them to move on when a household or town refused to receive them or listen to their words.

That is an important lesson for every evangelist.

We are called to be faithful, not to control the response. We must learn when to speak, when to listen, when to move on, and when to leave a situation in God's hands.

Second, we must be willing to learn.

I think back to my early days of evangelism, when I could barely approach someone with a sandwich. I had to learn through experience, and I am still learning today.

Imagine that you are an apprentice in a live classroom, learning things in real time.

Every encounter can teach you something. Sometimes we discover a better way to communicate. Sometimes we learn the importance of patience. At other times, we are confronted with our own attitudes and discover that we still have room to grow.

We must never become so confident in our methods that we stop allowing God to work on our hearts.

Third, we must guard our hearts.

When people reject our message, it can be tempting to become defensive or interpret every difficult encounter as a personal attack. We must be careful not to allow frustration to turn into bitterness or contempt.

We are not called to win arguments at the expense of people. We are called to represent Jesus.

And finally, we must remember that compassion does not mean ignoring wisdom or personal safety. If a situation becomes threatening, it is right to protect ourselves and others, seek assistance, and step away when necessary. We can love someone without allowing a confrontation to escalate.

The gospel is a message of repentance, but it is also the good news of God's grace. We must never forget the grace we ourselves have received.

From Evangelism to Disciple-Making

As I reflect on this journey, I realise that sharing the gospel is only part of the work.

When I first started, my immediate goal was to overcome my fear and begin witnessing. I wanted to approach people, share the message, and encourage them to consider Jesus.

There was nothing wrong with that desire. It was an important beginning.

But as I continue learning about disciple-making, I am discovering that the journey goes deeper.

We are not simply called to speak to people about Jesus. We are called to reflect His character, to love people as He taught us, and to encourage others to become followers of Christ.

That means learning to see people beyond their circumstances, their mistakes, their responses, and even their rejection of our message.

It means understanding that people are not projects to be completed or arguments to be won. They are human beings who deserve to be treated with dignity and compassion.

It also means recognising that God is working on us while we are busy trying to reach others.

I went from making sandwiches to preaching with a microphone. My methods changed, my confidence grew, and my opportunities expanded. Yet the most important part of the journey may be what God continues to do within me.

I am learning that boldness must walk alongside humility, that truth must be spoken in love, and that compassion must remain part of the message we proclaim.

Because what good is it to preach about the love of Christ if we refuse to show that love when it becomes inconvenient?

Until Next Time

I share this testimony because I want to encourage you to take that first step, wherever you may be in your own journey.

Perhaps you are like the person I once was, watching evangelism videos, attending training sessions, and wishing you could find the courage to approach someone.

Start somewhere. Learn, pray, and take a practical step when you are ready. You do not need to begin with a microphone or a large audience. Sometimes, a simple conversation, a kind act, or an opportunity to share your testimony is enough to begin.

Perhaps you are already going out to share the gospel, but you have become discouraged because people do not seem interested.

Do not measure the value of your faithfulness only by the reactions you receive. Be willing to learn, examine your approach, and trust God with what you cannot control.

And if someone responds with hostility or disrupts what you are doing, remember that you can stand firm in your faith without losing your compassion. Exercise wisdom, protect yourself and others, and do not allow one difficult encounter to rob you of your love for people.

I began this journey as a shy young man with a few sandwiches, some Bible verses, and a desire to tell people that Jesus loves them.

Today, I find myself standing on street corners with a microphone and a Bible, still learning, still growing, and still discovering what it means to follow Jesus faithfully.

I do not know where this journey will take me next, but I know that I want to keep learning from the One who called me.

Perhaps the greatest lesson is this: we may go out hoping to change the world, but God also uses the journey to change us.

So, the next time you step out to share the gospel, remember the people you are going to meet. Remember that some will listen, some will walk away, and others may surprise you in ways you never expected.

Pray at all times. Keep your heart open to God. Speak the truth in love. Be wise in difficult situations. And never forget the grace that brought you to Christ in the first place.

We are not simply called to reach people with the gospel; we are called to help people become followers of Jesus who will, in turn, help others follow Him.

Until next time, may God give us the courage to proclaim His truth, the wisdom to navigate difficult encounters, and the compassion to see people beyond their struggles.

Grace and peace to you all.