He was unlike anyone I had dated before — those guys were typically youth pastors or fellow missionaries.
Adam was neither of those things and he definitely wasn’t a Christian.
Guillaume Bignon: I was in my mid-twenties, working near Paris as a computer scientist in finance, playing volleyball in national league and keyboard in a rock band, and hated the idea of God and religion.
It took quite a conspiracy of many improbable events for me to even hear the Gospel in such a secular culture as that of France: I met an American Christian on a random hitch-hike halfway around the world, we started dating and I read the Bible to disprove her silly beliefs, I was intrigued by the person of Jesus, then a timely and unexplained shoulder injury forced me off volleyball courts on Sundays, which allowed me to visit an evangelical Church in Paris (like I would visit a zoo to see weird animals), and there, when I tried to escape without speaking to anyone at the end of the service, I was struck at the door by a blast of chills in my stomach, leading me to turn around and walk straight to the head pastor.
They gather in football stadiums by the thousands to pray for the country’s salvation.They wave their Bibles at passersby, screaming their condemnations of homosexuals.They fall on their knees, worshipping at the base of granite monuments to the Ten Commandments while demanding prayer in school.He and I met and talked regularly for hours at a time, wrestling through my questions, discovering that thoughtful Christians even existed, realizing the Bible was historically reliable, and starting to think the whole thing could be true.At the same time, I came to commit some particularly immoral atrocity, was rather brutally struck with guilt, and got to finally understand the Gospel: Jesus died on the cross to pay the penalty for my own sin; mine; the very thing that was killing me inside.This is no longer a matter of personal or private faith.