Life is missions and missions is life. That’s the mantra. I thinks that’s one of the things I’m taking away most from this month, particularly with strangers or brief encounters with people throughout the day. I genuinely want to live in a way that reflects the love of Jesus with whomever crosses my path, I just sometimes feel a large disconnect from where I am to where I want to be. It seems overwhelming to reach these people with the gospel, and I used to wonder if it were even possible if I only have a few moments with someone. My introverted self is a lot more comfortable at sharing about Jesus within the context of relationships that I’ve built over time, but I don’t want that to be an excuse to never step outside of that.
The other day I asked God to use the gifts and talents he’s given me to reach people, then decided to go for a run to get a workout in. Not far from where I’m staying is a concrete ramp that has four levels going down to the ocean, making for the perfect place to challenge myself. As I was running up and down the ramp (and was reminded I come from flat terrain), I passed a guy about my age smoking weed as he stared out at the ocean.
I normally don’t keep thinking about people I pass by, but something about him just stuck with me. I started to wonder if when he stared out at the vastness of the ocean if he had any clue as to the one who created it. Who created him. I wondered if he saw the depths of God as he stared at the depths of the sea. And the thought of him not knowing how insanely loved he was and that his life had purpose suddenly seemed the most important issue at hand. I felt a subtle conviction to talk to this man which eventually turned to a feeling of urgency inside of me that I couldn’t ignore.
I thought to myself, what if God sent me to Peru to tell this man he was loved? And what if that seed planted is a small piece of the puzzle in God’s pursuit of his heart? And what if the answer to my prayer for God to use me to reach people that I prayed that morning was just on the other side of boldness? And what if the power in the prayers I say for that man is the very thing God will use to save him? And what if God made me athletic to teach me about perseverance to give me the grit to find motivation to run up and down that ramp just so God could lay him on my heart and I could have the opportunity to be a part of his story? Or maybe I was overthinking it all. But maybe I wasn’t. It felt risky to talk to him, but in the moment, thinking about that mans eternity, it felt far more risky to run by.
And as quickly as the overwhelming feeling to share the gospel with this man came, so did the lies. He doesn’t want anyone bothering him. He’ll think you’re weird. You don’t know enough Spanish. Your bilingual teammates would be far more qualified. You’re just imagining that this feeling is from God.
Honestly, for a brief moment I almost chose into the lies. I’ve done that many times before. I get it wrong more than I get it right. But with each step that brought me closer to him I made a deliberate choice to be bold. And as my nose breathed in the smell of weed, my feet stood on holy ground as I started a conversation.
I stammered out some broken Spanish, but I saw he understood. And after some small talk I told him God loved him. He looked straight at me and asked “for what?”. And though a million things went through my head, the little bit of Spanish I could speak referenced him to the cross and Jesus dying because of no other reason than he loved him.
God will give more opportunities to those who are willing to step out. He will use people who allow him to use them. I don’t think we need to approach every stranger, and honestly, I think the way in which someone lives their life speaks way louder than words ever could, but I do want to be interruptible like Jesus was. I want to live like life is missions and missions is life. And when I sense what could be the Holy Spirits leading in my life, I rather step out and be wrong than miss an opportunity to bring heaven to earth.
My teammates teach me a lot about this. Watching their lives inspires me. They show me the gospel lived out. They show me it can be on a train telling a gay couple about the provision of God in my life without vocalizing my view on their sexuality. They’ve shown me it’s in praying for the waiter at the restaurant after learning he’s a Venezuelan refugee with a wife and child back home that he hasn’t been able to see in 3 years. It’s in taking interest in the lives of two hikers who in turn take an interest in why we volunteer our time and mentioning it’s because Jesus changed our lives so we want to live to serve him. And sometimes it’s just acknowledging the little child I make eye contact with by offering a smile.
I think I used to downplay the significance of these small moments. As if only radical encounters with the Lord were what mattered and dismissing the small moments all together. Seeds planted can eventually grow, but a seed never sown at all has no chance. I happen to believe that the God who is in all things and sustains all things not only uses the little moments of showing kindness and love, but actually changes the world through them. So here’s to learning to scatter more seeds, and trusting God with the soil it lands on. To choosing to really see people. To being interruptible. Here’s to trying to make this lifestyle become as natural as breathing.
As always, thanks fam for reading. Y’all are the best.
Kaelyn
“Still other seed fell on fertile soil. This seed grew and produced a crop that was a hundred times as much as had been planted”. Luke 8:8
