When my boyfriend and I first started dating back in 2018, I remember the day he gave me the grand dating ultimatum. 

“Can we be dating again?” his question filled the air of the five-passenger car that suddenly felt too cramped to breathe.

“What do you mean?” I questioned painfully, ignoring the seatbelt in my side as we sat staring at each other. Remaining stagnant, it was like the car we were in was glued to the two-car garage’s pavement; he began to fidget. 

“You know what I mean,” he began to push as his eyes narrowed in hurt and defeat.

“I know,” I sighed, laughing away the flirtatious vibe I was going for that wasn’t working. Avoidance, you see, never was my forté. 

“You can’t stay on the fence forever, Amber,” his smooth voice coated my heart. “I don’t know how much longer we can do this, us, without me knowing what we are. I like you too much and am too invested in keeping this up if there isn’t any chance of us getting back together,” his words pricked my skin, falling flat upon my ego. 

He was right. 

After we started dating the first time, we shortly broke up because we both needed a lot of growth. Just three short months later, however, we had grown to become the best of friends. Something in my heart felt different this time, and I wanted him. I wanted us. I wanted this. 

But what did I do when he gave me the ultimatum that cold December night? I ran and hid. I denied the truth because I was fearful. I used sarcasm to cover up my genuine emotions. 

“Amber?” his questioning voice pulled me back to reality. 

“So sorry,” I began, noticing my intellect’s fascination as the garage lights began to dim. Lost in a sea of the last time we dated, my mind shook so badly I didn’t know what to do. 

I knew what I felt now in this present moment, the butterflies, the sheepish grin, the love I so desperately wanted to cherish with him. But, I was also close to the reality of our past pain. Too close for comfort rang the awkward times, the lack of friendship, and serious talks that would exhaust anyone.  

He’d been praying we’d get back together, and oddly enough, God was softening my heart to have feelings for him again. So what was the problem? The problem was that I couldn’t get off the fence, and in five short minutes, I knew that if I didn’t, I would lose him forever. 

Asking to shower and “think” about the situation, I felt like I was in a cold, damp, and confusing place, literally, between my shower and the bathroom floor. As I sought God and begged, “Lord, what do I do?” I cried to the Father about my boyfriend. And though I didn’t hear God’s audible voice that day, I didn’t recall an audible “no,” either.

Making my grand entrance like a crescendo of falling dominos, my boyfriend and I began dating again that day. I got off the fence, and now over two years later, I am blessed to say that getting off the wall was the best decision. Perhaps, however, we do the same thing with God, except the catch is, we’re running out of time quicker than the five minutes I had with my boyfriend. We’re waiting too long to “Get Off the Fence,” when we should be leaping bounds above it to help others off it as well. 


While driving home from work one day, God began to speak to me about this whole, “Getting Off the Fence” scenario, but in the strangest of lights.

I almost missed the glimmering fly sitting upon my dashboard between the stop and go of traffic and the Jesus jams pouring out of my car radio. 

Right side up, the fly was dead.

Glorious in all its splendor, I know.

The odd thing was, however, the placement of his death.

Lying smack dab in the middle of an extra salvation card I carried around in my car, I felt the Holy Spirit’s prompting speak to me. 

On this salvation card, you see, it walks people from death to life or life to death, depending on how you look at it. As black as coal and green as the grass outside my car window, I felt sorrow for the fly. 

“He was so close to making it,” I laughed until the reality of that statement hit me.

Because isn’t that what far too many of us are encountering daily? Those who pass from this life far too quickly, and we didn’t even tell them about Jesus.

I find it no coincidence that I had the opportunity to share Jesus with a new friend a few days before this happened. Nevertheless, the message stuck with me the same.

No matter where we are working, what we are called to do on this earth is to share the good news of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Yet, far too many Christians aren’t pursuing this calling amid their vocational presences. 

While I get that I can’t preach Jesus to the kids I teach at a secular school, I am fully coherent that the way I act, interact, and treat them can go beyond miles of any coercive speech I could give. I desperately care about them, like my closest friends and family. And though I pray for each of them to be saved, I know that I might be the only Jesus they ever see.

My evangelism at school doesn’t always look like “Go therefore and make disciples…” (Matthew 5). Still, it certainly portrays getting off the fence and being bold about my faith, no matter the circumstance, because I know that time is short and these kids lives matter. Their eternity is on the line, and though we all make our own decisions, I pray daily that my interactions with them will lead them in the way they should go.


About a week after seeing the fly on my dashboard, I decided to drive home with the windows down in my car. Cruising down the highway, I almost forget about the fly.

However, when I got home, I was startled to see that the fly was longer with me. The salvation paper remained, but the fly, as my boyfriend said humorously, had been taken by the rapture. And at the moment, I laughed at his pun. But then, the reality sunk in. 

“The fly was so close,” I thought again to myself, nodding my head anxiously. “I’m going crazy,” I argued with myself. But I truly believe God was using that fly to speak to me that day.

We all have a finite existence, a set number of days given to live, and love, and serve, and save, and search, and find. But when it comes to getting off the fence and helping others meet Jesus, it’s my prayer that you’ll find a way to integrate it into your daily life.

Whether it is the absurdness of a dead fly on your dashboard or the new student you choose to share your story with at school, allow God to use you where you’re at for His glory. 

Don’t wait too long to get off the fence, for a day is coming when the wall will crumble. 

Those who are still on the fence will fall; they will crumble to the earth and bottomless pit like yesterday’s pastries. But those who have made up their mind and chosen the side of redemption? They will rise and not grow weary; they will walk and not grow faint. 

but they who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint” (Isaiah 40:31, ESV).

God’s request to enter a relationship with you sounds a lot like my boyfriend did that day, except for the fact that it’s wrapped in the loving arms of one who wants to spend eternity with you. He’s waiting for you to get off the fence before it’s too late. To seek Him, search Him, know Him, share Him, love Him, be like-Him to the world. Won’t you answer the call?

The fence is getting mighty uncomfortable, my friend. I assure you that all the comfort, peace, joy, and love you need are just on the other side. The side where the grass is truly greener and a fence is no longer a place you’re stagnant but the location you’ve chosen to grow from.