The scribes and the Pharisees criticized Jesus for associating with “sinners and tax collectors”. (Matthew 9:10-12; Mark 2:16; Luke 15:1-2; etc.) So, I’m following the lead of my Lord when I witness for Him in karaoke bars. It’s a dual miracle: when I was younger, I could not sing at all; and, when I was younger, nobody would have expected me to witness for Jesus. Now, I enjoy both.

In an effort to expand that witness, and the reach of this church, I recently had my truck decorated with a bunch of “conversation starter” decals. And, last Friday evening, it worked. I had conversations with three different men — all fellow military veterans — as a result of them taking notice of my tailgate. (My truck was strategically parked right in front of the pub door.)

After some preliminary questions to make sure that I was a “real” veteran (and not a faker), the conversations turned to the sorry state of modern society and then to how Jesus is the solution. One of the men was a bit worried about his college-age daughter (what father isn’t?), because getting involved in the Nashville music scene often comes with “strings attached”. Having lived in this area for 24 years now, I’ve heard some of those stories. Many of those stories end with some starry-eyed young musician being led to the basement of one of the big buildings along Music Row to go into “the other room” to sign “the real contract” — the one with Satan. Because I’m not a musician, I cannot confirm such stories. But, I have heard them from enough people that don’t know each other that I believe them.

As the evening progressed, all three men said that they would check out the church Web site. And, two of them seemed enthusiastic about it. It was a case of “mission accomplished”. (I had not planned to go to karaoke that evening. But, all afternoon, God was tugging at my heart that I should go. I had no idea why, but I obeyed.) I was feeling pretty good about the evening. But, then….

There were two people in the pub that “just didn’t feel right” when I looked at them. One was a man dressed in a motorcycle club vest. I have been in several biker bars, but this place is not one of them. It’s a family-type pub. And, although he was not the first to come in there dressed like that, they are very few. The other was a woman in a long, plain, gray dress. While the dress itself was quite plain, the woman in it was quite shapely. The dress was form-fitting. Although it went down halfway between her knees and ankles, it was still attention-getting. Unlike most customers there, she spent a lot of time walking around — including outside, staring at the tailgate of my truck for abnormal lengths of time.

At one point, I said hello to the biker and mentioned that I used to be a member of Rolling Thunder. We chatted a little, and I even showed him a picture of my adventurous daughter. He pulled out his phone and began scrolling through a photo album. But, instead of showing me some standard family photo, he “accidently” showed me a nude photo of himself. I acted nonchalant and pretended not to notice, and then he did it again. I walked away.

A while later, I was getting ready to leave. I was standing near my table and waving goodbye to the KJ, whom I have known for several years. While I did that, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the woman in the gray dress walking toward me. She was walking briskly, and she seemed headed for the door. It also seemed that she might bump into me, and so I stepped forward out of her way. And then, she changed course and kept heading toward me. The needle on my Weird-O-Meter began quivering. And then, I saw her hand. Her fists had been loosely clenched, but then the fingers on her left hand (the side toward me) stretched out quickly — like the opening of a switchblade knife. I turned my head the other way, to see if anyone was approaching from my right side that she might have been avoiding. There wasn’t. As she passed behind me, her outstretched fingers brushed “ever so lightly” against my lower back. I thought that was odd….

And then, it dawned on me as she was walking out the door. I should have seen it coming sooner, but it had been a long time since I had faced a close-up spiritual attack. The woman was an agent of Satan. So was the biker. And, just as I had been “on a mission from God” (really) to go to that place at that time and meet those men, they were on a mission from their master. I was the target. The last time I had faced a close-up spiritual attack, it literally felt like a punch in the gut. I barely felt this one. Not only was it because she brushed her finger(s) against me so lightly, but also because I had been “armored up” and “prayed up” beforehand. So, to my knowledge, her attack had little or no effect. In retrospect, when she changed course and kept coming toward me, that was the “signal” that I had missed. Her mission to put a bad spirit upon me was mostly a failure. (There was an after-effect when I got home, but God healed me by the next morning.)

I had decorated my truck in order to start exactly the types of conversations that occurred that evening. God had tugged on my heart to to there. And, I had three positive engagements while there. And, because of the good work for the Kingdom of God, enemy agents had been assigned to disrupt things. In retrospect, I’m glad that my work caused a reaction from the enemy camp. “My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience.” (James 1:2)

And now, you know both the good and the bad that came because of my tailgate.

UPDATE: Sun, 21 Sep 2025: The Bible verse below was part of my One-Year Bible reading for Saturday, the morning after the events described above.