I spent a lot of time at my grandparents’ house as a kid and it was my favorite.
In the fall I’d help my grandpa pick up stick in the yard and watch all the kids from our town play soccer in the adjacent lot of grass.
In the winter, I got to sled with my cousin and grandpa and then meet grandma inside for some classic powdered hot chocolate.
In the spring, I planted my first garden and begged for the pool to be opened early.
And in the summer, I spent as much time on the tire swing and by the creek in the backyard as possible.
One of my favorite things to do was take my cousin or friends from school out to that little creek in the backyard.
There, I would challenge my opponent to find the biggest rock manageable. Why? Obviously so we could each throw a rock in the creek and see who could generate the largest ripple effect (nerd alert).
I loved watching how one rock, big or small, could so greatly alter the trajectory of the creek’s natural flow.
And to me, that’s what it’s like hearing from the Lord.
Sometimes, we get that booming voice from the clouds. That huge sandstone that thuds at the bottom of the creek and changes the natural flow for what seems like forever.
In my experience, we more often get a small rock. A single string of words, a single image, a single feeling in our heart or soul that interrupts the natural flow of our thoughts in a shorter, but just as defining moment.
About a week after committing to the World Race, Jesus dropped a rock in the creek.
One of my favorite things about driving to work at 5:30 in the morning is starting my morning off with some much needed Jesus time.
On this morning, Who You Say I Am by Hillsong was on repeat during my Jesus time.
As I heard the lyrics “I am chosen, not forsaken, I am who You say I am” for probably the hundredth time I also heard the PLINK (that’s the sound rocks make) of the word “missionary” shake the natural flow of my thoughts to bits.
Let me backup and explain why that pebble literally rocked (get it?) my world.
Over the past couple of years, as the Lord has begun to grow a love in my heart for global missions, I have struggled with the idea of being called a “missionary.”
When I spent time in Uganda last year, a couple of people referred to me as a missionary before I left and once I returned and it just didn’t set right. It just felt WEIRD.
Anytime I heard that word in reference to myself it just didn’t make sense. I wanted to say “Nah man. I’m just a girl who really loves Jesus and really loves people.”
I’m not what the (totally misguided) image of a missionary looks like in my head.
I don’t know the location of all the books of the Bible. Lord help me if I need to find an obscure book in the Old Testament.
I am NOT a minimalist.
I don’t consider myself mild mannered or gentle.
Sometimes I cuss a little (sorry mom).
As I’ve begun preparing for the Race, this “M word” and the mixed emotions that come with it are popping up again.
But this time around, Jesus threw a rock at me.
He tossed that rock right into the center of my mind’s creek that said “Kearstin, the only thing you have to be to tell people about my love, is my daughter.”
That’s true of us all. All it takes to be a spokesperson of Jesus’ love, is to be a child.
You are a spokesperson right where you are, with exactly what you have.
Everything you need is already inside of you. And that “everything” is a heart for Jesus.
As always, I want to invite you on this journey with me. There are a few ways to do that!
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The most important, pray. Right now, I’m asking that you would please pray for the Lord’s preparation of my heart and His provision in fundraising.
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