You invite me to something on a Friday night, I'm not coming. It just doesn't happen. "Sorry, Team Hope," is my usual response.
I never skip Team Hope, unless I can't make it at all, which also means that I'm not going anywhere else. Unless it's overtly evangelism-related.
So why on earth did I agree to go to my friend's early Christmas party yesterday? I mean, yesterday was Friday, Team Hope was not cancelled, this was not an overtly evangelistic party--so why did I go? I even spent almost the whole day at Calvary Chapel, which is Team Hope's weekly base, and had to go all the way back to Seminole (more than seven miles on bicycle, because the bus had both bike racks occupied) to be in position to get picked up for the party.
His name is Mark. He is a friend of one of the Christians who was at the party, but wasn't one himself, last I heard. But I got to witness to him, discovering that several people had tried. He even said to me, "Okay, you win." My heart dropped. I looked at him and said, "You know, it doesn't do you any good if I win--that doesn't get you into Heaven. You need to be covered by the righteousness of Jesus Christ on Judgment Day, and that doesn't happen just because I win the argument."
Interestingly, he did say that he could feel the love coming from me as I spoke. I deflected the glory to Jesus, knowing that it was His love flowing through me at that moment, and knowing that this was the sole reason that I had been lead to skip Team Hope. Wow. God is good.