Gregg was a fence-sitter, and a source of frustration to me as a young believer full of enthusiasm (and perhaps a bit full of myself). He was a co-worker and a good friend, but he would stick his toe in and out of the Bible study I'd repeatedly invite him to. I tried gentle persuasion and muscular confrontation, but when he left the Philippines I felt in some ways no further along with him than when we'd started. It's a good thing I wasn't in charge.
A couple of years later, I called him up in Hawaii from my station in Okinawa, just to see how he was doing. When he realized who I was, he exclaimed, "Praise God!" I balked ... was this the right Gregg?
Praise God indeed! He had done His work in His time. I was not present at Gregg's conversion, but I'd played my assigned part in sowing seeds, and would continue to play my part in being Gregg's friend. God brought us back together repeatedly through the years, and he remains one of my dearest brothers.
He also remains a silent reminder to me that my God is mighty to save--and I'm not.