Mackenzie Norman

When I was a junior in high school it was nothing more than a fleeting thought, an absent-minded comment. “If someone gave me the chance to speak to a group of people about anything that I wanted, I’d use it to share the Gospel.” I had no idea that my freshman year of college I would be seated in a 7 pm Public Speaking class, listening to my Nigerian professor summarize our latest assignment in his heavy accent. “Fo’ oa’ next assignment you will ave the Info’mative Speech. You can speak about whateva’ you would like, as long as you a’ giving yoa’ audience info’mation.”

Immediately my mind returned to that moment, to my unintended promise to proclaim Christ when that specific opportunity presented itself. It had. And I had to follow through. The next class period, he asked a few people to preemptively share their topics. And when Professor Adeniyi’s dark eyes focused on mine, I knew I would be one of those people. I braced myself for the sniggers, rolled eyes, or glaring daggers I was sure would come from my classmates. “I’m going to talk about the Gospel. I’m going to explain what it is and what it means.” 

An uncomfortable silence fell across the room. Professor Adeniyi rocked back on his heels, biting the side of his lip, the gears clearly turning in his head. Then he spoke. “No. In this classwoom we do not talk about weligion o’ politics. Those speech topics a’ off-limits. Check page 131 of yoa’ book. It is not good to speak of contwovessial things.”

And with that, he checked his watch, bid the class good night, and dismissed us early. But the idea was not dismissed from my mind. I knew, with every fiber of my being, that it was no accident the Lord had impressed upon me such a desire to use this platform to share the Gospel. I knew there were people seated in that room who had never heard, or had heard but believed it didn’t apply to them. God’s calling was clear. And like the words Peter and John spoke when forbidden to speak about Jesus by the Sanhedrin, the same response echoed in my soul, “Whether it is right in the sight of God to listen to you rather than to God, you must judge, for we cannot but speak of what we have seen and heard.” 

As the presentation day drew nearer and Professor Adeniyi continued to steadfastly reject any topics related to religion or politics, I began to grow anxious.  There I was, a freshman in college, about to give a speech directly against my professor’s orders, an action that would likely result in a failing grade, if not a failed course. It was my first semester. How crazy would it be for me to flunk out of a class my very first semester of college because I directly defied the professor and presented a project I knew would end in an F? 

And yet a still, small voice constantly pierced through my churning thoughts and declared what I knew to be true. That God was more concerned with my obedience than with my grades. Ultimately, at the end of it all, I would have to answer to Him for my actions, not to the Dean of Students. And if God had called me to walk this road, He would provide all I needed. Every word, every action, every ounce of boldness. And if He wanted to, He could even clear the way. All I had to do was trust Him. 

So I continued crafting my powerpoint slides, rehearsing my lines in the mirror and to my roommate, and I continued to pray that even if I failed, that someone’s heart would be profoundly changed because God’s word always accomplishes something in the life of the hearer. I polled people on campus to find out if they could explain the Gospel, hoping to use the data in my presentation. For the people who couldn’t explain the Gospel, I was able to share with them the greatest news on earth. I knew, without a doubt, that God was moving. 

I was set to speak on a Thursday night at around 8:00pm. The Tuesday before, I received an email in my inbox from Professor Adeniyi. The short version? As long as I was explaining the Gospel in an informative way (and not planning to offer an altar-call at the end), I could present a speech on the topic. And there it was. My clear path. God had moved His heart and I could give my speech without fear of failing the class. It was a miraculous blessing.

I did the speech as planned. To my knowledge, no one accepted Christ that night. But several people did say that I had encouraged them to step out, to be bold, to have faith that God could do far beyond my expectations- He could do the impossible. I know that God whispered to the barren ground of the hearts of those who had not yet believed, that the potential for spiritual life was implanted in the soil of their lives that night, that something incredible happened. People were eternally changed, because that’s what the Gospel does. And I don’t regret for a second that I stood faithfully beside what I knew God had called me to do. 

I’ll be the first to say that it was hard. I wanted to give up, go the easy route, choose something less controversial, avoid the suspicious glances of my classmates, pretend that butterflies were the most interesting insects on the planet and far more worthy of an informational speech. I so often wrestle for the approval of other people, and in and of myself, would have fled from anything that might have caused someone to dislike me. But I am filled with a Holy Spirit that is much stronger and much bolder than my fearful mind. And when I look back, I don’t see a brave, faithful Mackenzie Ford who stood up and did something good. I see a frail, frightened Mackenzie who clung to Jesus and watched Him do something so far beyond herself that it could only be attributed to the power of God. 

When Ephesians 6 talks about the armor of God, it also talks about how we are to fight spiritually. And the answer is, we don’t fight. We stand. And we let God do the rest. Standing up isn’t about being better or braver or stronger or bolder. It isn’t about being a great, powerful Christian. It’s about trusting in a good, brave, strong, bold, great, powerful God. Because He does it all. And He gets the glory when we cast every fear on Him, plant our feet on the solid Rock, and stand firm, fully believing He can accomplish what we can’t.