“God hates gays” said on the front of the hateful bright yellow t-shirt. The girl wearing it didn’t look much older than my son. She could have been a high school student or someone in her early twenties. Two days ago as I walked by the corner where protesters of the Lady Gaga show stood on the streets of Nashville, I couldn’t help but notice the scene. For some reason this young woman was further away from the rest of the angry pack. I felt compelled to talk to her, but our exchange broke my heart. I didn’t want to shout or call attention to us and attract the rest of her angry clan, so I quietly walked up to hear and said, “My dear, God hates sin, but He Loves people. He cannot hate gay people. He died for them.” She jumped to attention as if not expecting my…

The old man was out of control and out of order. His wife was taken to the operating room 30 minutes before she was scheduled and we were not there in time to pray with her before the surgery. Now his angry words echoed through the hospital waiting room for all to hear: “you’re the worst preacher ever. How much do we pay you anyway? Whatever it is, it’s too much.” As I was about to defend my boss and put the old man in his place, Ron reached over and waved me back. He knew that the man was in pain and that his outburst was not about us, but about his fears. A few minutes later the elderly gentleman broke down and began to cry. Ron consoled him as he asked for forgiveness almost immediately. I was 21 years old and I was in my first year of…