I was horrified by what I saw. A very small dog had walked out into busy traffic and was sniffing something in the middle of the road. I was about to watch the tiny creature become part of the pavement.

Suddenly a police car appeared from nowhere and pulled to the side of the road about fifteen feet from the sniffing animal. Whatever it had its nose into must have been pretty good because the dog was impervious to cars that were screeching to a halt each side of it. I wondered if the officer was going to rush into the traffic, and like some comic book hero, scoop up the canine and carry it to safety. He didn't do that. Instead, he sat in his car and began to honk the horn. You could tell from its body language that the animal was getting distressed by the incessant honking. It kept sniffing for a few seconds, then much to my relief, ran to the safety of the roadside (I find it very strange, that dogs have a sense of smell much stronger than that of human beings, but they insist on sticking their noses right into disgusting things).

Three days later, we were in the heart of Georgia at a conference teaching on the importance of reaching out to the lost. After it finished, a team from our ministry sat glued to the weather channel as a tornado headed towards us. The area had had killer tornados go through it only six weeks earlier and cause massive devastation. I grabbed my video camera and asked each of them if they were fearful, and what would happen if that night we were all caught up to meet the Lord in the air. Jaylene, Trish, Liz and Lisa all rejoiced that if they died that night they had the incredible consolation that they had eternal life. I filmed the lightning, the amazing weatherman who was able to talk incessantly about weather for forty minutes. I recorded the rolls of thunder. I filmed cats and dogs falling from the sky, and the facial expressions of the team as they watched as the tornado come closer and closer.

There was a strange sense of excitement in the air, probably because we were all from California where tornados are rarely seen.

Then, Jaylene, one of the single girls, went and spoiled the exciting atmosphere. She said, "We should go door-to-door in this hotel complex, warn people about the tornado, and then witness to them." Horrors. What was she thinking! I thought of 400 reasons why we shouldn't do such a thing. It was 10:00 at night. People were in bed. They wouldn't want to be awakened by fanatics pounding on their door. We were tired from a day of telling people that we should be concerned about the lost. There was a silence in the room. Then I cheerfully said "Sure, let's go. Good one Jaylene." I suggested that I boldly follow the four females with the video camera to catch the action.

Jaylene knocked on the first door. As it opened, she said, "Hello, have you heard about the tornado that could strike tonight? We are making sure everyone is prepared, and we're also asking them if they know where they are going if they do die tonight." A deep voiced replied, "We're Southern Baptists." "That's good sir, but it's important that you've repented and trusted the Savior..." While she was still speaking, he rudely closed the door in her face. Sadly, his body language showed that he was more interested in sniffing sin than he was in heeding Jaylene's honking.