After sub school, I spent about a year and a half on the USS Tusk, a vintage submarine of the WW2 type. I think it was commissioned the year after the war, but it was that kind of critter. I was just eighteen, full of beans, and had come from a family that placed a very high value on evangelism, so my intial time on the boat was full of conversations. I had also come from a family that regarded debate as an indoor sport, so it was natural for me to find myself in all kinds of rowdy exchanges of an apologetic nature that dominated the crew’s mess. It was a submarine, and the crew’s mess wasn’t that big, but still. In other words, lots of conversations, but not much fruit. And by “not much fruit” I mean none. This was the state of affairs about halfway through my time on the Tusk.
I remember talking to my dad on the phone about it. He is a gifted evangelist, and didn’t just fall off the turnip truck, and so I thought I should ask. He quoted from Timothy, in the old school King James he had memorized — avoid foolish and unlearned arguments, which do gender strife, and the servant of the Lord must not strive. So I resolved to try to stay out of evangelistic arguments. I can’t say I did that perfectly, but I really began to try to minimize the robust conversations that had high entertainment value. And it was striking — a number of sailors (I think around ten) began to come to the Lord.
I used to ask the Lord to bring me a fruitful evangelistic encounter during the course of a day, and to do so in such a way that I knew that I was not the one making it happen. One time (still on the Tusk) I had made that request, and not a peep from anyone all day. I was on the boat until 2200 that night, and not a word. I remember standing in the control room, wondering where my appointment was. I headed back to the barracks, somewhat dejected, and I recall apologizing to the Lord for having missed it, whenever it was or whoever it was. I got back to the barracks, and was sitting in my cubicle reading, maybe around 2330, when a guy I had never seen before in my life walked into my room and said, “I like fast cars and fast women,” and just stood there. “Well,” I thought. “Bet you don’t know why you came.” We had a good conservation . . . I hadn’t missed him after all.