Because my mother was married and divorced seven times, I had a ministry of sharing the gospel with her former husbands. I spoke with many of them and had the opportunity to pray with two of them to accept Christ. The first was Oscar Laurie, from whom I received my last name. The other was on his deathbed, and I was able to pray with him only hours before he went into eternity.
But then there was another previous husband of my mother's that I shared with. Along with my mom, he was an alcoholic, and they would get into horrible fights. One night, he hit her with a little wooden statute, knocked her unconscious, and she almost died. I felt hatred toward this man because of what he had done to my mother.
Fast-forward a number of years. I was preaching in a crusade at the Waikiki Shell, and he was living in Hawaii. I found out where he lived, which was very close to the venue. So I thought I should visit him and invite him to the crusade. I didn't want
to invite him, however, because I honestly didn't want him to come to Christ. I was still angry with him. However, I recognized I had the wrong attitude, and I decided to make myself go see him.
So I went. And when I saw him, instead of feeling anger and hatred, I felt pity for him. Age had taken its toll, along with his hard drinking and all the rest. I shared the gospel with him and invited him to the crusade, and he politely but firmly refused.
Here is my point: Go to the person that you don't want to speak to. Go to the person who has hurt you. Go to your enemy with the message of the gospel.