When I picture traveling evangelists, I usually imagine a bike, a
crisp white shirt, and a perfectly tailored answer concerning
salvation. That, or a sweaty purple suit shouting something about
fire, hell, and brimstone. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine
that I would become the very thing that I do not have a particularly
good taste for. In my mind, door-to-door evangelism was not only
ineffective, but was intrusive, and certainly not the Lord’s plan for
me. One would think that seven months on the race would rid me of
planning my own life for myself…but I guess I still have more to learn
on the subject.
This month my team is in a tiny town in Uganda. We have no electricity or water, and are camping out in our tents indoors
because the bugs are just that bad. In the midst of these conditions,
my team has one directive – evangelize. We began last week giving a
whole new meaning to door-to-door evangelism, because when I say we are
in a tiny town in Uganda, I mean tiny. We basically go into
the bush every day and share the Good News to every hut that we
encounter. Enter: my cynical mind and skeptical spirit and you have a
perfect combination for Spirit-stifling. However, I decided at the
beginning of the month that I am in Uganda doing evangelism right now
because that’s what I was created to do. God created me specifically
for a purpose, and if I believe that he has good plans for me, then
Uganda is part of those plans. So I decided that no amount of doubt
would prevent me from bringing Kingdom to these tiny huts in this tiny
village. We split off each day into small groups with our translators
and preach the Gospel to anyone who has ears. Each day has its own
challenges – one day it’s a resistant Muslim woman, another day it is a
husband preventing his wife from faith, yet another day brings
translation issues – it seems like no amount of preaching will ever get
done….and yet, somehow, at the end of the day, I am amazed at how many
people confessed with their mouth that Jesus is Lord. One would think
that I would have learned the lesson of the simple Gospel(Insert Could
It Be That Simple) back in Kenya, but I am nothing if not stubborn.
Each day God continues to show me how much he loves the people of this world.
My heart skips a beat every time I get to say with a Muslim “I believe that Jesus is God and he is the only true God”.
I am constantly amazed at the size of the harvest and vastly ashamed that the workers so few.
I grow increasingly grateful as I present the Gospel and trust that,
“at that time, it is not you speaking, but the Spirit of your Father
speaking through you.” (Matthew 10:19).
And I am boldly walking in the promise of God, “Ask of me, and I will make the nations your inheritance.” (Psalm 2:8).
Look out huts – I am evangelizing.
