When I carried this book into a gas-station diner I saw the waitress look at the title and roll her eyes. I turned the book over. But was I ashamed of the gospel? Well, of course not—so I turned its face up again, wondering what else might happen.
A large man with a beard and many tattoos, who had pumped gas into his motorcycle right next to my Accord a few minutes earlier, peeked at the book from the next booth, smiled broadly, gave me a thumbs up, and said, “Jesus is coming again soon.”