From the Senders

For years I've felt my heart grabbed by stories of missionaries like the Judsons, the Elliots, Katie Davis, etc, and I prayed over and over for God to show me if my calling is to missions. I watched the Cross Con simulcast tonight with a seeking heart, still waiting for the call to go, and I heard two things. 

The first move I felt was as David Platt was reading his journal entries from his trip to Nepal last year. His voice heavy with his unquenchable burden for the lost, he walked through one story, one girl, one village up in the Himalayas. I felt I walked with him as he talked about how a little girl had been reaching through his pack and taken his hand instead, following him through her poverty-stricken streets. As they neared the end of the village, he stared into her face and watched, in his words, the sadness and anger in her eyes as she tried to spit at him when he had to take his hand away.

In my mind's eye I saw my sweet Ugandan girl, Daphine, whom I sponsor through Compassion International. Now let me tell you, I am absolutely crazy about this girl. I have her letter on my fridge and her picture in my Bible, and one of the most influential things in teaching me the power of prayer is watching God grow my love for this girl I've never met as I've prayed for her and written her letters. 

I love telling her how much I love her, how much God loves her, how much I enjoy getting to talk to her, anything that I hope would make her smile. 

Imagining my precious Daphine with that much pain in her eyes broke my heart. The girl in that village had no idea how much God loves her. She had never even been told that this God hand-crafted her, gave His Son in the most extravagant act of love ever, and desires for her to be His. 

That girl clung to the love of a man who didn't speak her language and, despite his heart for her, couldn't stay. David Platt couldn't save this girl. I couldn't save Daphine. But, by the grace of God, Daphine had people in her life that cared enough to tell her. Daphine lives near a Compassion center where she knows that she will be loved, taken care of, and shown the love of Christ. 

If I'm honest, part of the reason I haven't been certain of a call to missions is because I'm having to pray for a heart for the lost. My heart, on its own, is far more concerned with me than it is with Nepal, or Uganda, or the people that I pass in the grocery store. 

But God is working on me.He's chipping away at my hard heart a little bit at a time. I may not be burdened for the nations like I should be yet, but He's awakened an unexplainable love in me that would move mountains for this girl in Uganda that wants to be a teacher and loves elephants. What if that girl in that village had been my girl in her village? 

When you put a face and a name on the nations, it makes them a little easier to see. 

Which moves into the second thing that Cross 2015 pressed into me. I am not called to be a Goer yet. As much as I want to be, as much as I want to say that I have thrown it all away for the sake of the Gospel, God has not called me to go to Asia when I graduate. 

He has, however, called me. Until today, I saw the whole sender-goer question as more of a menu option. You may be a Goer. You may be a Sender. But I saw myself as being the one sitting at the table empty-handed because I didn't feel called to either. 

What I didn't realize was that Going and Sending are a little more black-and-white. All Christians are called to be a part of the Great Commission from the moment they are born again. 

There's no grey area to the Great Commission. If you aren't a Goer, you're a Sender. To choose to do neither is to miss out on God's active work for us on earth. 

Because I am not called to go yet, I must be called to send. This doesn't mean my calling is less worthy, less spiritual, less sacrificial. It only means that right now God uses me best here. I'm not called to idly wait until I get a flash of lighting to my real life. 

Real life is what's been happening while I've been waiting. My call right now is to become holy. To learn to live a life worthy of the Gospel. To carry out God's plan so I can support others in carrying out God's plan. 

It may look different in Asia than it does here, but that's what we're doing, Senders and Goers alike- we're carrying the name of Christ for the glory of God to the ones in darkness.   

Us senders are carrying His name to our schools and our work and our social circles, and it's the same name being whispered in house churches and proclaimed in huts. 

I think sometimes, if we're honest, we tend to glamorize overseas missions. We see pictures of smiling faces singing hymns in different languages and we feel like these super-Christians have it all figured out. Thing is, if you really study the life of a missionary, you'll see a lot of pain, a lot of waiting, a lot of sacrifice, and a lot of conjugating verbs, 

Likewise, we tend to think if we're not called to start a church in the rain forest that we can just sit here in our cushy homes and spend money we don't have on things we don't need. Now, I know as well as you do that living, in itself, can be difficult. I've been walking through storms I'd never have imagined would be this painful. 

What I'm missing, though, is the sacrifice. I want to stop worrying about how to impress my friends and whining when life is harder than I'd like. My brothers and sister are giving their lives for this Gospel and I'm throwing pity-parties. 

I think a sign that you're learning something important is when God shows you a truth and all you can say is "wow, I've got a lot to learn." 

I've got a job to do here. I have to live radically because this world is suffering substantially and nothing short of a miracle of God will get its attention. 

My town doesn't need me to go to Africa and dig wells; my town needs me to turn, desperate, to God and say "Whatever you have to do to win my heart and theirs, do it."

My town needs to see how I react when everything is taken from me and all seems bleak. 

My town needs to see that me and my church will fight for holiness in a world that is drowning in sin. 

I know I am not always Christ-like. I'm not even usually Christ-like. My heart is proud and idolatrous and constantly trying to turn away from God. 

But there is too much at stake for me not to fight complacency. 

God will have His people. One day all the nations will be reached, the last soul will be made new, and He'll come back and take us home. His name will be glorified and every knee will bow because He is worthy of infinite praise. 

The only question is whether we will be part of it. Whether will we trust the God who saved us to lead us. 

I'm learning to rest in the truth that when God deems it right for me to know things, He'll tell me. If, and probably when, the day comes for me to hang up my Sender hat and put on my Goer shoes, I'll know it. He wants to use us, and if He intends for us to walk a path He'll make us able. 

So, Senders, strive for holiness on the home front. Be the Goer in your house, your city. Live wisely and rightly in an age that is waging war with the Light. 

And Goers, we've got your backs. We'll pray that God will give you the courage to live out the assignment He's given you. 

God, give us grace to give everything for the joy set before us. Thy will be done, thy kingdom come.