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Katie* and I met my freshman year when we both played on the girls' basketball team. During our many practices and games, we quickly became friends.

When we traveled to compete against other schools, we'd sit together on the bus and talk about anything and everything—from our favorite candy to our interest in guys. Soon, we were hanging out a lot. But our times together never led to talking about what was most important in my life—my relationship with Jesus.

I wanted to share, but for some reason I thought she might get mad or become defensive. I just didn't want to risk losing her friendship. So, I stayed silent.

As sophomores, we both made the tennis team. By this time, I felt the need to ask her about God. I still feared her response, but I cared about her life, especially her eternal life. I wasn't sure when to bring up the topic, but I kept looking for the right time.

One afternoon, after finishing a tennis match at a rival school, we boarded the bus for the fairly long trip back home. I said a quick prayer and decided this would be a good time to bring up my faith.

I felt really awkward, but I started anyway. "What do you think about God?" I asked.

Katie looked surprised at my out-of-the-blue question. "No one has ever asked me that."

"Do you believe in him?" I asked gently.

"Yes, I believe he exists, but there are things I don't get. I'm confused about what I should believe," she responded. "I try to find out for myself by reading the Bible, but sometimes I don't understand what any of it means."

As we talked, I found out Katie had heard many different opinions about what she should believe, and now she didn't know who was right.

"What do you believe, Ashley?" she asked.

I had asked a couple of friends what they thought about God, but that was usually where the conversation ended. This time was different because Katie gave me the chance to talk about my beliefs.

OK, God, here I go, I thought. "I believe God is perfect and he created us for a relationship with him." I glanced at her curious expression as I thought about what to say next. "Because he's perfect and our sins make us imperfect, we're separated from him. There is nothing we can do to fix that relationship. Being a good person won't make things right. That's why Jesus came. His death on the cross paid for our sins and restored our relationship with God." As I tried my best to explain the gospel,

I noticed she was listening intently.

I took a deep breath, wondering what she was thinking. She stayed quiet for what felt like a long time. But she didn't look angry about anything. So I asked, "Does any of this make sense? Do you have any questions?"

"Yes, it makes sense, but I don't have any questions right now," she said.

I didn't know what to say next. My Bible was tucked away in my backpack. I thought about pulling it out, but didn't feel like this was the right time. Instead I said, "If you ever have any questions about what you're reading in the Bible, I'd like to help you understand."

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