I lived in 18 different houses before I turned 18 years old.
I imagine you get a sense of belonging from growing up in one hometown, but I never stopped in one place long enough to know what that feels like. I bounced from church to church, responding to altar calls again and again. I think I was desperate for some kind of stability in my life.
I had an encounter with God on a Sunday evening when I was in high school, sitting in a pew by myself during a prayer meeting. I felt the Holy Spirit draw near and ask a simple question:
“Do you believe these stories you’ve heard your whole life?”
I didn’t have to think very hard about it.
“Yes.”
Then he asked:
“If they’re true, shouldn’t that mean something?”
The answer seemed pretty obvious. If Jesus really was who I believed he was, then following him wasn’t just part of my life; it was everything.
Around the same time, I heard a chapel speaker give a pitch for an organization that mobilized high school kids to go overseas on mission. It sounded like a cool way to spend the summer. So I signed up, raised the money, did three weeks of intensive training in South Florida, and headed off to South Asia with about twenty kids and five adults I’d never met before.
Those two events – a Sunday night prayer meeting, and a short-term mission trip – would go on to shape the rest of my life.
When you’re a young adult, people expect you to choose how you’re going to spend the rest of your life. I did well in school, and it seemed like my life could go in a lot of different directions. But we only get one life. What could be worth spending your only life on?
According to 2nd Corinthians 5, God has reconciled the world to himself through Jesus, and he has given us the ministry of reconciliation. He made us ambassadors of a kingdom with a message of reconciliation. That was something worth spending my life on.
I joined a ministry team in college. After I graduated, I spent some time volunteering in South and Central America. I had some incredible experiences (and some incredibly difficult ones). That led to a job in mobilization. For about six years, I coordinated a short-term missions program for a Christian University.
One of my goals in that job was to mobilize students for one to two years. What if they could spend a year or two serving God overseas, after college, before they had too many other commitments? I sent about 200 students a year on three-week trips, but year after year, almost none of them wanted to go long term.
I became frustrated with God and prayed a prayer like, “Why don’t you make them go?”
God responded to my question with a question:
“What about you? Why don’t you go?”
I had plenty of reasons not to go: a job, a young child, family responsibilities. But day by day I began to see those “reasons” as what they actually were: empty excuses.
A lot of people like the word “calling.” I tend to prefer the word “invitation.”
God was inviting me and my family to leave all the things we knew, and follow him to the other side of the world. In a lot of ways, I think my childhood prepared me for that invitation. The constant moving, the early exposure to missions, the stability I found in my relationship with Jesus.
We found an organization that would mobilize us to the unreached, and we ended up spending ten years on mission in Asia. Life on the field had its challenges, of course. But it was also really, really beautiful. We raised our kids in Asia, built friendships, shared the hope of Jesus… I had no idea how richly God would bless us.
Sometimes people say something like, “Oh, I could never do what you did.” But the truth is that I lived the most blessed life – better than whatever I could’ve dreamed up for myself. Life can be hard, regardless of the path we choose. Why not choose something that’s hard for a good reason? Spending your life on something that matters is worth it.
The God of the universe still invites regular people like you and me into the extraordinary adventure of serving him overseas. It starts with a simple “yes.” That willingness to trust him can change everything.
The best thing I’ve ever done is say “yes” to God’s invitation.
