I was putting dinner on the table when the doorbell rang. Saturday evenings are not the usual time for salespeople. The name tags and nice dresses gave them away. They were Mormon missionaries. Immediately, my heart started racing. After explaining that we were about to eat dinner, we agreed on a better time to meet later in the week. The following Saturday, my wife and I were ready to greet the missionaries at our door.

Opening the door is the first step, but it feels like the scariest. What helped us most was reminding ourselves of God’s promises—we don’t need to be afraid. Offering a glass of water and a kind welcome may seem small, but they can begin something meaningful. Fear often comes from not knowing what the missionaries will say or ask. But in our experience, most follow a fairly consistent pattern, which helped us prepare.

When my wife and I met with the two sister missionaries, we started by listening closely. Mormons use many of the same words we do—faith, grace, salvation—but define them very differently. At first, it sounded like they agreed with everything we said. But we learned to slow down and ask them what they meant. That helped us explain what the Bible teaches and how it’s different. It wasn’t always easy, but it was so important.

Those same sisters came to our home for four weeks, and we kept opening the door. The conversations were pleasant and respectful. Over time, we genuinely grew to care for them. We could see their need for the gospel—even if they couldn’t.

After the first few weeks of mostly listening, we began gently guiding the conversations. We started to share Bible passages that speak about God’s demand for perfection—and how none of us can reach it on our own. We told them that, because of Christ, we are already perfect in God’s eyes. We explained that this gift of righteousness was free—fully paid for by Jesus on the cross. We prayed silently that God’s word would break through the weight of works-based thinking.

Eventually, the meetings ended. The sisters didn’t suddenly renounce Mormonism, and they weren’t baptized in our kitchen. But that doesn’t mean the visits were a failure—quite the opposite. We showed them love and shared God’s truth.

I can’t make the word of God work in someone’s heart. That’s not my job. Not slick talk, not perfect answers, not airtight logic. But I can bring God’s word to them. I can trust his promises and speak clearly about sin and grace while still showing respect for the people I’m speaking to.

God brought those two sisters to our door. And I’m grateful he gave us the courage to open it.