Evangelism

As an Indian, Manoj Raithatha was raised as a Hindu and his family regularly visited the Hare Krishna temple. But an economic downturn resulted in the family moving start a new life in Kenya. In Nairobi his parents enrolled Manoj and his sister in a Christian school.

Manoj writes, “I was intrigued by the teaching that God took upon himself the judgment of our sin by dying on a cross. But seeing my inventive mother baking cakes to make ends meet diverted my attention from God to money. I wanted success and recognition, and I wanted money!

Manoj became very successful buying property and reselling it at a profit. He said, “Before I knew it, I was buying whole blocks of apartments across the UK.” But then the economic downturn of 2008 was brutal and the value of his business disappeared overnight.

Then came the ultimate crisis, his 2-year-old son became critically ill with severe breathing difficulties. In the ER his airways shut, and he was intubated to keep him alive. Manoj and his wife wept uncontrollably.

Then Manoj said, “An American couple whom we had recently befriended began praying for Ishaan. They even got their families’ churches in the United States to pray for him. On the fourth day in the hospital, the doctor said that my son would not open his eyes anytime soon. But then Ishaan suddenly sat bolt upright in bed. The only explanation was that we had witnessed a miracle.”

Manoj and his wife committed to attend their friends’ church to thank them for the prayers. Manoj said:

I felt stirred to walk down to the front and to give his life to Jesus, the One who gave his life for me. I couldn’t get my head around the immensity of God’s grace. After I gave my life to Christ, my wife didn’t recognize me; she felt like she was married to a new man. I found myself saying sorry, becoming gentler and caring for others, laying aside the pursuit of money in order to serve God.

Hip-hop artist Tedashii grew up believing he was a good kid who never got into trouble. He received a scholarship to Baylor University, where he joined the football and track teams and excelled academically. "I’m living my dream," he recalled.

Halfway through his first semester, a student walked up to him. He said, ‘I heard the way you speak about girls, how you talk about your life. I heard the jokes you told and how you interact with other guys. And I gotta be honest, I think the Bible would call that sin.’ Tedashii yelled, shoving the student away. For the first time, someone told him he wasn't good, and it was God saying it.

Later, Tedashii attempted to break a weightlifting record but injured his back. Doctors warned that further injury could leave him paralyzed. He chose to prioritize his ability to walk over football. Two days later, the same student shared the gospel with him again, explaining that Jesus died for his sins and offered a relationship with God. He said that, even though Tedashii was an enemy of God, Jesus came to this world and lived the perfect life that he couldn’t live. He died innocently on the cross, dying the death that he should have died. Three days later, God raised his Son from the dead, proving that Jesus is God. He said, “God doesn’t want your good behavior, he wants a relationship.”

This message shook Tedashii. Later that week, he broke down in his dorm room, realizing he wasn't good in God's eyes. He cried out to God, believing the gospel for the first time. The student who shared the gospel with him became a close friend and encouraged him to include Christian messages in his rap lyrics. After Baylor, Tedashii signed with Reach Records and released four solo albums. The gospel's transformation of his life compelled him to share its message with others.

Joanna Shelton’s journey to faith began unexpectedly with an email inviting her to the 120th anniversary of a church in Osaka, Japan-one founded by her great-grandfather, 19th-century Presbyterian missionary Thomas Theron Alexander. Despite a secular upbringing in Texas, where church was more educational than spiritual, Joanna’s adult life was marked by a high-powered career as an international economist and trade negotiator in Washington, D.C., and Paris.

Yet, even amid professional success, Joanna felt something was missing: “A feeling deep inside me nagged me with thoughts of a more ‘normal’ life. (One) of community and day-to-day rhythms focused more on family and friends than on international travel and high-level diplomacy.” She eventually traded diplomatic life for a Montana farm and began researching her great-grandfather’s legacy.

To understand what had drawn him to ministry in Japan, Joanna started reading the Bible seriously, guided by two devout relatives. “A long-suppressed inner flame burned brighter as I read and contemplated the Scriptures,” she writes. Verses like Luke 17:20–21 and John 14:9 resonated deeply, helping her grasp “the true meaning of faith, as hope in things unseen.”

Her spiritual search was further fueled by witnessing the enduring faith of Japanese Christians whose ancestors had been taught by missionaries like her great-grandfather. “My great-grandfather’s hand, still for over 100 years, seemed to beckon, and I followed,” she reflects.

In 2007, Joanna joined a small Presbyterian church in Montana and has since served as a ruling elder, taking the same vows her great-grandfather once did: “to trust in Jesus Christ my Savior, acknowledging him Lord of all.” She concludes, “You might say I’m the latest convert of a man whose work clearly was not done when he died more than a century ago.”

Tom Holland did not set out to defend Christianity. As a historian of the ancient Greek and Roman world, Holland assumed that faith was a relic—useful once, perhaps, but now intellectually unnecessary. Then history began to argue back.

Immersed in the brutal moral universe of the ancient world, Holland noticed something unsettling: the values he instinctively cherished—human equality, compassion for the weak, dignity for the suffering—were utterly foreign to pagan antiquity. In Rome, power defined worth. Mercy was weakness. The strong ruled; the weak endured.

And yet Holland felt those ancient assumptions were wrong. But why?

The answer, he discovered, was Christianity. The idea that the poor matter, that suffering can be redemptive, that every human life has infinite value—these were not self-evident truths of reason. They were historical consequences of the cross.

In 2016, Holland publicly admitted he had been wrong about Christianity. While he stops short of a traditional conversion narrative, he returned to church and confessed that, morally and imaginatively, he was “thoroughly Christian.” Secular humanism, he realized, was living off borrowed capital—Christian ethics detached from Christian belief.

Holland’s journey reminds us that Jesus does not merely shape private devotion. He reshaped civilization itself. Even those who deny him often reason, hope, and protest injustice using categories he introduced. Sometimes the road to Christ runs not through emotion, but through history—when the evidence becomes too strong to ignore the truth. quietly insists.

Kyle Zunker began suffering terrifying panic attacks in his late teens, which only worsened over time. By 2015, desperate for answers, he underwent an MRI while clinging to anxiety medication and hope. The scan was clear, leaving doctors puzzled and Kyle still searching for relief.

Seven years earlier, Kyle had left home for college. Though raised Christian, his faith was nominal and quickly unraveled. He writes, “I wanted to be the most successful and important person in the world. The more self-oriented my life became, the more I subscribed to intellectual arguments against the existence of God. By my early 20s, I was a staunch atheist.”

As he chased achievement, his health collapsed. His first panic attack at 19 left him desperate and overwhelmed. Anxiety became a constant presence, and he bounced from doctor to doctor, self-medicating to cope. He pinned his hope on passing the bar exam and proposing to his girlfriend, Hannah. When both dreams came true, he was shocked to find no peace: “If those hadn’t brought peace, then what could?”

Before their wedding, Kyle and Hannah often passed Pearl Street Church in San Antonio. Hoping to boost his respectability, he suggested they attend. Expecting to scoff, he was instead moved by a sermon on Genesis 22. Kyle recalls, “God’s instruction to Abraham was not a sadistic test; it prophetically foreshadowed the work of Jesus… God did not require Abraham to pay that price but chose instead to pay it himself.”

Over the next months, he read the New Testament and kept attending church, but anxiety persisted. One sleepless night, exhausted and broken, he finally prayed, “Thy will be done.” He writes, “Everything changed that night. The peace of God… changed my life. It gave me power over anxiety and fear, and my body began to heal as joy and hope replaced depression and despair.”

Joseph Kim grew up in North Korea with loving parents, but his world changed during the Great Famine of the 1990s. When he was 12, his father died of starvation, and soon after, his mother and sister left for China in search of food. His mother returned alone, having sold his sister into bride slavery-a common fate for young North Korean refugees. Later, his mother was imprisoned by the North Korean government, leaving Joseph alone and homeless on the streets.

For three years, Joseph survived by begging and sleeping in the mountains. At 15, facing starvation, he made the dangerous decision to escape North Korea by crossing into China. There, an elderly Chinese Korean woman advised him to seek help at a church. He found a church, where members gave him small amounts of money and temporary shelter. The kindness of these Christians, who helped a stranger without expecting anything in return, sparked his curiosity about their faith.

At another church, he saw the words, “Come To Me, All You Who Are Weary And Burdened, And I Will Give You Rest.” Joseph recalls, “It was as if someone was talking directly to me. I thought I heard a voice saying, ‘I understand how exhausted you are and what a hopeless situation you are in. I will take care of you.’” A Christian woman took him in, encouraged him to read the Bible, and gave him the name “Joseph.” He prayed, “God, I don’t know who you are or whether you exist as the Bible and Christians claim. But I need your help.”

With help from activists and Liberty in North Korea (LiNK), Joseph eventually escaped to the United States in 2007 as a refugee minor, attended high school, and began to build a new life. Reflecting on his journey, Joseph writes, “I had been alone in the world. Finding Christians in China, I found hope again. Caring for strangers, acting compassionately without expecting anything in return: That is the beauty of the gospel.”

In central London in 2009, red buses had a bold message stretched across their sides: “There’s probably no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life.” It was the high tide of New Atheism—Richard Dawkins filling stadiums, and the cultural mood tilting hard against faith. Belief in God felt not only outdated but unfashionable. But something unexpected happened.

In a small radio studio near Westminster Abbey, a young broadcaster named Justin Brierley started inviting atheists and Christians to have honest conversations. No shouting. No mocking. Just listening, questioning, and seeking understanding. At the time, critics warned him:
“You’re giving atheism a platform! Christians will lose their faith!”

Atheists started listening, and some—even very public ones—began to reconsider. Scroll through YouTube comments today under Brierley’s debates with people like Richard Dawkins, and you’ll see an astonishing pattern. Atheists writing things like: “I don’t believe in God, but this conversation made me think.” “This is the first Christian space where I’ve felt respected.” “I’m an atheist… but I’m curious again.”

One journalist calls it a “softening.” A growing number of public intellectuals have begun speaking publicly about Christianity as morally beautiful, culturally essential, and spiritually compelling.

Brierley calls it a “surprising rebirth of belief in God.” Many people—especially young men—are quietly asking again: “What if there is more?” Sometimes God moves by opening cracks in even the most confident doubt.

Seventeen-year-old Casey Crease’s life changed forever after a night of partying at his parents’ house. Frustrated with his friends, he left the party around 1 a.m., despite their attempts to stop him from driving drunk. Ignoring their warnings, Casey sped away in his Camaro, only to lose control and crash near his home.

Casey recalls waking up, “covered in glass, a deployed airbag lying in my lap.” In shock, he repeatedly screamed, “Who did I hit?!” until a friend assured him he’d only hit trees. But at the hospital, a state trooper delivered devastating news: “There’s been a fatality.” Casey’s friend John, trying to stop the car, had been struck and killed. “Before the accident, I thought my life was falling apart. After the accident, I wanted to die,” Casey writes. Yet, in his deepest despair, he sensed God’s presence.

Raised in a Christian family, Casey had begun to doubt his faith before the crash. Afterward, desperate for hope, he returned to church and resolved to read the New Testament. Still, he wrestled with guilt and wondered, “The more I tried to be a Christian, the emptier I felt.”

Everything changed during a revival service in his senior year. The preacher asked, “Do you want to be well?”-echoing Jesus’ words to the paralyzed man in Jerusalem. Casey remembers, “If Jesus will heal me, I want to be well… It was a quiet moment between the Lord and me but that day he began to soften my heart. He made me his own.” Over time, Casey realized his sins were forgiven, “not because of anything I had done but because of what Jesus accomplished on the cross.”

With newfound faith, Casey faced the consequences of his actions-including probation and community service-and began speaking to other teens about the dangers of drinking and driving. He concludes, “I am confident that Jesus is the Son of God, that he is able to forgive sins, and that he is in the business of making broken people brand new.”

Some disregard man’s need to be rescued as a mere trifle. David Litt, a former Obama speechwriter, describes his efforts to learn surfing. While his daredevil brother-in-law joked, “It’s only drowning” Litt describes in his book, “It’s Only Drowning” one of his worst wipeouts.

“For a long time I was weightless. In free fall. Bracing myself to hit the water with a full-body slap. But the impact never came. The crashing lip, as powerful as a jackhammer, blasted through the surface, and I flew down the resulting sinkhole until my right hip bounced against the sand. Then the sea washed over me like a coffin lid and the hold-down buried me alive.

At first I held it together. Don’t worry. Wait it out. But I’d developed a mental hourglass…and I could feel it running dry. I’d never been underwater this long before. I’d never pinwheeled so violently. I raised an arm, expecting to punch through the ocean’s surface, but all I felt was more ocean. Water streamed up my nose and down my throat. How deep am I? How long have I gone without breathing? Something’s wrong. Panic setting in, I thrashed frantically upward, water surging through the corners of my mouth each time I fought to suppress a breath. When, finally, the wave lost interest, I burst into the sunlight and took shallow, rapid breaths. My neck was sore with whiplash, my tonsils swollen from salt.”

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Drowning is no joke. Separation from God is no joke. Spurgeon’s quote could be paired with this illustration.

“A man who is drowning does not need to be told how to swim; he needs to be pulled out of the water. And so the sinner, sinking under the weight of his sin, does not want directions, but deliverance. He is not a free agent who can save himself if he will; he is a captive, bound hand and foot, unless the strong arm of grace shall rescue him.”

C. H. Spurgeon, The Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit, vol. 11 (London: Passmore & Alabaster, 1865).

Randy Loubier and his family were reeling from a series of tragedies: his son’s girlfriend, Kira, had just died in a car crash, and less than three weeks earlier, another son’s girlfriend, Ashley, had committed suicide. On top of this, Randy’s career in finance had collapsed after he was fired for being a whistleblower, and his family was at risk of losing their home.

At Ashley’s funeral, a family friend named Debbie was the only light in their darkness, offering support and kindness. Later, at Kira’s wake, Randy was surprised when Kira’s mother, despite her own grief, expressed concern for Randy’s son: “I am so sorry Zach lost Ashley… When all this is over, would it be okay if I spend a little time with Zach?” Randy was stunned: “She just lost her daughter, her best friend, and she wants to care for my son? Who does that?”

Debbie then introduced Randy to her pastor, who invited both sons to a new grief group. Moved by the compassion of these Christians, Randy’s wife announced, “I’m going to start going to church.” Soon after, Randy’s father-in-law sent him a Bible. Though previously skeptical of Christianity, Randy decided to read it: “God, if you are in this book, I am going to be super upset, because I will have been wrong for 50 years. But I guess…I want to know.”

As he read, Randy was convicted about his own failings and gradually fell in love with Scripture. Weekly meetings with the pastor deepened his faith. When he reached the Gospels, he realized, “Jesus had been speaking to me all along.” Randy reflects, “Jesus, the Word, is everything to me. He saved me… But make no mistake, the church first sparked my curiosity. If God’s people hadn’t made me wonder about their peculiar love, I never would have cracked open God’s Word, and I never would have fallen in love myself.”

For much of the last half-century, Sweden was held up as the clearest picture of a secular future. Church attendance hovered around five percent. Belief in God collapsed. As Swedish church historian Joel Halldorf describes it, religion wasn’t angrily rejected—it was gently dismissed. But in recent years, Sweden has seen unexpected signs of change: open conversations about faith at intellectual dinner tables, and—most surprising of all—young people showing up in churches.

Across the Western world, similar signals are appearing. In Britain, journalists speak of a “quiet revival.” In France, the Catholic Church reports a stunning surge: more than 7,400 teenagers baptized at Easter in 2024. In the United States, Pew Research notes that the long decline of religious affiliation has flattened, especially among younger adults.

Globally, Gen Z is now more religious than their boomer parents—a reversal once thought nearly impossible. Musician Nick Cave observed that a decade ago, talking about God at a dinner table would get you laughed out of the room. Now, he says, people listen. There is “a kind of need” in the air.

Halldorf argues that there’s an erosion of faith in secular progress itself. When reason, technology, and prosperity stopped delivering hope, people didn’t stop longing. They started searching again. And in the Western world that search is becoming visible.

Hector Vega’s journey to faith began in the most unlikely place: Rikers Island Prison. One night, correction officers rushed in. An inmate named Jose Vega had committed suicide. Due to a mix-up, prison staff mistakenly identified Hector as the deceased and notified his family. For several days, while the prison was on lockdown, Hector’s family believed he was dead.

Reflecting on this, Hector said, “There’s something powerfully symbolic in how I was ‘dead’ but not yet buried. Looking back on this moment in my life, I believe God was beginning to show me that although I was physically alive, I was spiritually lifeless.”

Raised in Hell’s Kitchen, New York, Hector struggled with feelings of inadequacy. To fit in, he began drinking at 11, then moved to marijuana, cocaine, and heroin. Multiple prison sentences followed. A turning point came through his girlfriend Michelle, who, frustrated by his addiction and aware he wasn’t ready for fatherhood, turned to God and prayed for his deliverance. She encouraged Hector to attend a Christian recovery program.

Hector recalls, “I also started feeling deep remorse and shame over the pain I had caused people in my family, especially my mom and dad. So, I started attending prison chapel services. From there I started reading the Word of God, and gradually it got a tight hold on my heart.” He clung to passages like Psalms 27 and 91, and Galatians 5:1–13, which speaks of freedom in Christ.

With the support of mentors, Hector surrendered his life to Christ. Since then, he has served as executive director of a homeless shelter and addiction-recovery program, and since 2009, as pastor of East Harlem Fellowship. Married to Michelle for 30 years, they have raised four children. Hector now travels globally, sharing, “When the world had labeled me an addict and a career criminal, his love and mercy overwhelmed me… I was made in his image and worthy of being presented as a trophy of his grace.”

Nabeel Qureshi was born in California to Pakistani immigrant parents, devout members of the peaceful Ahmadi sect of Islam. His father whispered “Allahu Akbar” into his ear at birth, following a family tradition dating back to Muhammad. Nabeel’s family was loving and tightly knit, entirely centered on Islam. His mother taught him Arabic before English, and by age five, he had read the entire Qur’an in Arabic and memorized many chapters.

His family legacy included generations of Muslim missionaries, and by middle school, Nabeel was adept at challenging Christian theology. Islam gave him “purpose, values, and direction for worship.”

In 2001, while at Old Dominion University, Nabeel met David Wood, a Christian student. Nabeel was surprised that someone so intelligent would read the Bible. Their debates grew into a deep friendship and years-long dialogue. David encouraged Nabeel to examine both Islam and Christianity objectively. “I had been happy with my faith and with my Ahmadi community and did not want to leave it, but I ultimately converted to Christianity after years of dialogue with Wood,” Nabeel recalled. He described his conversion as “the most painful thing [he] ever did” because it cost him most of his friendships and relationships with fellow Muslims.

He wrote, “For the first time, the [Qur’an] seemed utterly irrelevant to my suffering. It felt like a dead book.” In contrast, the words of Jesus in the New Testament “leapt off the page and jump-started my heart.” He realized, “For Muslims, following the gospel is more than a call to prayer. It is a call to die. I knelt at the foot of my bed and gave up my life.”

His conversion deeply wounded his family. He said, “To this day my family is broken by the decision I made, and it is excruciating every time I see the cost I had to pay.” But Nabeel said, “Jesus is the God of redemption. He redeemed my suffering by making me rely upon him for my every moment… To follow him is worth giving up everything.”

“Abu Jaz,” is a key leader in a movement that describes itself as the “People of the Gospel.” This group represents several thousand Muslims in eastern Africa who have converted to faith in Christ. Abu Jaz describes his conversion to Christ:

One night the only food my wife and I had was a small portion of macaroni. My wife prepared it very nicely. Then one of her friends knocked on the door. I told myself, ‘The macaroni is not sufficient for even the two of us, so how will it be enough for three of us? But because we have no other custom, we opened the door, and she came in to eat with us.’

While we were eating, the macaroni started to multiply; it became full in the bowl. I suspected that something was wrong with my eyes, so I started rubbing them. I thought maybe my wife hid some macaroni under the small table, so I checked, but there was nothing. My wife and I looked at each other, but because the guest was there, we said nothing.

Afterward I lay down on the bed, and as I slept, Isa (Jesus) came to me and asked me, ‘Do you know who multiplied the macaroni?’ I said, ‘I don’t know.’ He said, ‘I am Isa al Masih (Jesus is Messiah). If you follow me, not only the macaroni but your life will be multiplied.’

I didn’t understand what he meant when he said that my life would be multiplied. Now I understand what that means. But at that time, I accepted him simply as the ‘lord of macaroni’ much like the crowds in the Gospels who accepted him as ‘lord of bread.’

Yes, I just accepted him as one who satisfied my needs. That day I understood that Isa came to my home. When I think back now, the kingdom of God came to my home. Jesus said, ‘[I]f I cast out demons . . . the kingdom . . .has come upon you’ (Luke 11:20, NASB). Any miracle that takes place by Isa al Masih speaks of the kingdom of God.

American Protestants are keeping their children in the faith at a higher rate than Catholics or the una­ffiliated. The biggest influence: mothers.

Children Of Two Protestant Parents:

80% are still Protestant

13% are now unaffiliated

2% are now Catholic

Children Of Two Catholic Parents:

62% are still Catholic

19% are now unaffiliated

16% are now Protestant

Children Of Two Unaffiliated Parents:

63% are still unaffiliated

29% are now Protestant

7% are now Catholic

Children Of A Protestant Mother And Catholic Father:

49% are now Protestant

25% are now unaffiliated

14% are now Catholic

Children Of A Protestant Mother And Unaffiliated Father:

61% are now Protestant

29% are now unaffiliated

2% are now Catholic

As fire threatened people in Jasper National Park, Colleen Knull sprang into action. “I like to be able to help people,” said the 18-year-old. “I like the fact that what I do in my work does good.”

Knull is a volunteer firefighter in North Okanagan in Alberta, Canada. She was working a summer job as part of the kitchen staff at a Jasper lodge when one night an evacuation order was issued for the area. “The smoke was coming up from the mountainside,” said Knull. “It was big.”

Knull quickly spread the word to guests of the lodge and tracked down any other people camping out in the area. In total, she rallied 16 people together for a four-hour hike in treacherous terrain to safety.

Rebecca Tocher, a hiker who was in Knull’s group said, “There was more intense smoke, my eyes were burning, there was ash falling constantly. She was an amazing leader and was just making sure that everyone was working together.”

Knull used her knowledge of the area and tracking skills to navigate in the dark. Knull said:

I had previously ridden a horse up to that lodge on that same trail and throughout the way me and my employer, we had cut logs on the way up," said Knull. "There were 67 logs, so there would be 67 cut logs on the way down…So, I used my tracking skills – following horse tracks, and horse manure.”

“She was just on it and she led it, the whole way,” said David Richmond, another hiker in the group.

“I do it because at the end of the day, I’d want somebody there to help,” said Knull.

During the hike down, the group was able to communicate with search and rescue crews to help with the evacuation. Knull eventually drove all 16 people in her pickup truck out of the evacuation zone. No one was seriously injured.

Knull said the experience reinforced her motivation to become a full-time, professional firefighter.

Possible Preaching Angles:

1) Rescue; Salvation; Savior, Christ only - Christ, our compassionate Savior, personally leads us through the valley of death, just as He promised, 'Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, you are with me' (Psalm 23:4). His prior experience ensures our safe passage. 2) Evangelism, Witnessing - Christians can show others the way to safety in the Lord since they know the way (John 14:6).

Legendary West Indian fast bowler Sir Wesley Hall was a strongly-built, larger than life cricketer who played international cricket between 1958 to 1969. His long run-up, fearsome pace bowling, outstanding personality, and exploits on the field, made him one of the most-loved sportsmen to emerge from the Caribbean. In 48 international test matches, Hall took 192 wickets at an average 26.38 runs per wicket.

Wesley Hall became an unforgettable part of cricket folklore having bowled the final nail-biting over in the first ever tied test match in the history of cricket between Australia and the West Indies in 1960. The last Australian wicket fell in the last over of the match with them needing one run to win. Thus, the scores of both teams finished the same (tied). It was a historic moment in the game of cricket

After retiring from the game he loved, Hall served in politics and as an Administrator for West Indies Cricket. He was knighted in 2012.

Wesley Hall's life was dramatically transformed, however, after attending a Christian meeting in 1988 on a trip to Florida. He gave his heart to the Lord that day and eventually answered the call to serve God. After attending Bible college, Hall was later ordained in the Pentecostal Church. He has been a much-loved preacher thereafter at Christian gatherings and at funerals-specifically those of West Indian cricketers.

Possible Preaching Angle:

At his trial before King Agrippa, the Apostle Paul, remembering the call of Jesus on the road to Damascus, said, “So then, King Agrippa, I was not disobedient to the vision from heaven” (Acts 26:19). Similarly, when God's call came to the prophet Isaiah, he responded, “Here am I. Send me!” (Isa. 6:8). God places His call on different people in different places. Sir Wesley Hall answered the call of God to serve Him. What about us?