The Nervous Prophet

Jonah and I went to the playground this morning. He calls it "all slides," and in fact, they do have a lot of slides. We head home, stop by the grocery for a can of icing for cupcakes (I love my wife.) Grab a couple of Icee's for the road (I love my life) and get back to Brenda street. As we turn it, I see this nicely dressed lady in her mid-30's knocking on the door of one of our neighbors. She had a little boy with her who looked to be about 7. He was wearing a tie. A seven year-old. That's when it hit me. Jehovah's Witness.

So we came home and I waited for the knock at our own door. It came.

I opened the side door, but they were at the front. I make it to the front door just as one of them heads around the house to the garage side. Very awkward.

So there's one guy at the front door and the other one now making his way back to me. Apparently the guy traipsing around the yard was the point-man, because the guy standing there at the door didn't say anything. He just waited until the guy came back around.

Point-man was nervous. I mean, the shaking hands, shifty eyes and a nervous chuckle that made wonder if there are any bullets in that gun we keep down the hall. He gets going though, and once he hits his text, he's okay. He pulls out a Bible. It says "Holy Bible," but there was some other text below it that he always had covered up. Awkward.
Then he asks me to read a scripture. Aloud.

So I stabbed him in the face.

We know how this goes, right? I mean, I've got two options.
#1. Stand up for my faith. Debate, discuss, pull out my Bible or better yet, some Southern Gospel lyrics. (Why must I continually throw in these random things in vain attempt at humor?)
#2. Be nice. Take the magazine, say I'll look it over. Maybe offer him a soft drink. (All we had was a two-liter of Diet Coke, so that would have been really uncomfortable to pour them a couple of glasses and stand there while they drank it, right?)

I was nice. I thanked him, the whole thing.
But here's the deal . . .
He believes in something. So do I.
The difference is that I feel pretty confident that I'm not going to convince to play for my team. Does he really think I'm going to choose to play for his? So here's the question for ALL of my readers...

Is evangelism really as pretentious as it seems when you're on the other side of it?