A couple of years ago I was staying in London and one night passing through Kensington Gore which is at the southern end of Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens on my way to Earls Court Road where I was holed up. I espied walking down Exhibition Road a man who was very drunk, it was 2.30 am.

He was the most drunken man I have ever seen still on his feet, he was making a perfect Z reeling from one side of the pavement to the other then pulling up short before going on what was like a headlong plunge. And God said "go and talk to that man about his soul."

I set off at once, with God it is always best to do first and think later. I always carry a few gospel tracts with me which are good for opening a conversation.

He was about half way down Exhibition Rd with me steaming up behind him, tract at the ready. But when I got up close behind him I saw how big he was, I mean like HUGE, he was about 6' 4 ins and 5' across and so instead of speaking to him I bottled and hurried on by scuttling up the first sideroad, there leaning against the wrought iron fence I watched him stagger by and cried to the Lord "Oh Lord please send someone braver than me to talk to him and help him."

God said "go and talk to that man about his soul." Those who know the Lord know that He is a great King and He expects us to obey Him, you don't always get a second bite at the cherry, so off I goes again, this time a bit more circumspectly.

So there he was on one of his headlong thrusts and me hard on his heels clutching my tract but as I came alongside him I bottled again and walked smartly on and scuttled up the next nearest sideroad and leaning against the wall watching him go by I wheedled and whimpered to the Lord. God said a third time "go and speak to him" so off I goes again.

When I caught up with him this time he had turned into the Cromwell Road and I got in front of him and thrust my tract out at him "I would like for you to have this."

This brought him up short and he stood there swaying in the breeze, his mouth dropped open and he blinked at me owlishly, towering above me.

"It's about Jesus" I said and then broke into babbling, but I managed to convey how that Jesus would transform his life, stressing that He changed our lives from inside of us not from outside when we recieve Him into our hearts by faith, He sets up His rule within us and starts to bring people and stuff into our lives to help and bless us.

All this time he had stared at me blinking, I took a deep breath and said "now I want you to pray and ask the Lord into your heart."

He had taken my tract and now he shlurred "I'm too stoned to pray, I will read it in the morning and think about what you said." heyy he turned out to be the sweetest guy, a Canadian.

He went to pass me but I stood in his way, " I promish, he said, I promish..."

It was three weeks later in Kensington Temple at morning meeting the Pastor came to the mike lifting up a tract and letter he had recieved through the post. It was from Canada from an air pilot cadet who on a visit to London had been dumped by his girlfriend and was on his way back to his hotel, totally smashed, determined to kill himself and he would have done it but he wrote, a member of your fellowship stopped me in the street and told me about Jesus and I got saved instead. He told about his new found peace and joy.