Last Thursday I got what was probably one of the most exciting phone call’s that I have ever gotten. I received news that I was accepted and going on the World Race in July 2015. All I could do was thank my Heavenly Dad, not only for allowing me to go—but for setting a fire in my soul for the nations, and every broken soul in need of Christ. I was telling a friend just the other day that a year ago, I would never had anticipated or thought myself brave or bold enough to think of this as an option let alone a reality. It’s amazing the growth that Jesus can bring about when you decide to start taking, “go forth and make disciples of all nations”-Matthew 28:19 or “look after orphans and widows in their distress and keep oneself from being polluted by the world”-James 1:27 seriously. It is undoubtedly much easier to comfortably pick and choose scripture to live by, instead of taking the entirety of Gods word seriously. Easier, safer, more comfortable—absolutely. However, I have learned in my short two month trip to the Philippines that a heart for missions is bold, is listening, is radical, is vibrant, and so so much more. So it is with my small taste of the Philippines, that my heart is starving for a bigger piece of this pie (the nations) and providing to the desires of my heart, Jesus said, “yes, go.” I don’t want to be moved by the world, but moved for the world. When I think about or read about Paul’s missionary journey’s my eyes narrow and my conviction increases—knowing that I am and will continue to be a part of bringing God’s kingdom here, whatever that may look like on the race. Original feelings of inadequacy are dissipating, and dependence and freedom are moving into my heart. However, being at the beginning of a long long fundraising journey—I would be lying if I said there were not lies being spoken into my heart. I keep hearing peoples nagging doubts, “it’s how much?” or “and how are you going to do that as a full time student?”, or simply peoples expressions that say, nope not a chance. I do trust in Gods provision, but forgoing worldly comments is not easy. Last night, I started to read through my journals from the Philippines something I have been avoiding because it confirms that my season there is over. Nevertheless, I read something I wrote on the second day there, “the little kids, their smiles tell stories. Stories that need to be told just as much as heard. Told in order to heal, but heard by ears that can actually do something about it by bringing the Kingdom here”. And my heart thanks Jesus for his timing here. That just when the enemy swoops in to tell me I can’t do something, I have nothing to offer, its a pipe dream. Those voices are silenced, and I am reminded that I am the daughter of the Most High God, and he doesn’t compete for the last say—it’s always been His. I’ve heard a voice that said go, and that’s the only one I intend on listening to.
