Feather boas make great witnessing tools. Too bad I completely missed that.

A couple years back, my good friend and tour buddy flew to my side of the country. I met her in Jacksonville, and we had a fun weekend of catching up. To honor our tradition of exploring fun and exciting places, we went to St. Augustine, where we looked in fun shops and she gorged herself on sweet tea. We giggled and as our day was nearing a close, we saw one of those old-timey photo shop places. Y’know the one, where you dress up in old western wear and tote a gun and they print it in sepia. We had encountered them many times on tour and always joked about doing it, but never did. We looked at each other and decided now was the time.

We walked in, looking at the photos on the wall and the old, ripped clothing hanging up. An energetic lady told us she’d be with us shortly and invited us to pick out the pose we wanted. We flipped through an album, laughing at the thought of each one before we settled on a pose. Soon, she was flipping through skimpy tops and feather boas and giving us an armful of clothes. Before we could protest, we were sent to a small dressing room (that we had to share) to get suited up in our western wear.

We laughed at each other as we both slipped into our respective costumes. I tried not to think about how many legs had worn these fishnets and vowed to take a shower when we returned to the hotel. My friend shuddered as she slipped into some old, ratty boxers. I suppose they were meant for “modesty.” When dressed, we peeked nervously out from behind the curtain, realizing for the first time that the entire store front was glass. Every passer-by was going to get a peek at our petticoats. Lovely.

We finally emerged and she finished suiting us up with boas and props (guns and whips. My hubby loved it.) While we were having the finishing touches put on us, we heard a noise outside the store. A man was beating a pot with a stick and shouting to all those passing by. I couldn’t make out all the words, but I could tell it was something about going to hell. I sighed as I realized it was one more over-zealous Christian forcing his beliefs on people just trying to have a relaxing day shopping.

The woman threw her arms down in disgust as she looked toward the door. “That man drives me crazy.”

My friend and I smiled sympathetically at her as she finished draping us in boas. She proceeded to tell us how he drove her business away. She and some other shop owners had tried to have him removed, but there wasn’t much law enforcement could do, and within a week or two, he was back. It was obvious that his “evangelism” did not have a positive effect on her.

We all laughed about it and then proceeded with the photo shoot. We walked out with a very fun picture and went on with our evening. It didn’t hit me until later that I had missed a perfect opportunity to witness.

Instead of offering a pathetic smile and a “That sucks,” I should have said this:

“Y’know, I’m a Christian and people like that piss me off too. I want you to know that I get really offended at people that try to force religion at you. I don’t believe that’s what Jesus wanted us to do. I am really sorry that you’ve had to deal with this. Please know that we’re not all like that dude.”

I don’t know if it would have had any positive impact on her or not, but it was a chance I missed. Perhaps she would have just said, “Thanks.” But maybe it would have opened the door for more conversation. I’m trying to live my life in a way that I won’t have any more missed opportunities like that.

At least I walked away with a lesson learned. And a fun photo.

Thanks, Em, for giving me permission to post this! 🙂