It’s dark.
We’re somewhere in Honduras, Lord only knows where, in a yellow school bus, heading home from a day at the mall.
The windows rattle loudly, as if the roaring of the bus wasn’t enough.
I purposefully chose a seat in the back.
I hear the buzz of voices, with the occasional burst of laughter.
Everyone seems engaged in conversation.
I look out the window, drawing uneven, ragged breaths.
Headlights passing by illuminate my tear-streaked cheeks.
My friend clutches my hand, silently.
I cry because dying isn’t easy.
Giving up my plans, my dreams, my options.
Blindly trusting God while rejecting the logic of the world.
God’s plan is better than anything I could conjure.
God’s plan is better than my American dream.
Yes, I’m sure.
I have no idea what I’m doing after the race, if that’s your next concern.
No, I don’t know what God is doing with my life, and that’s okay.
My plan is to serve the sovereign God, the King of Kings, wherever He sends me, however extreme.
No one gets to say it’s wrong. No one gets to call me crazy.
Crazy is worshipping idols and money, knowing every knee will someday bow.
Against the grain feels foreign now, but it beats regret and shame.
I don’t want to be a hypocrite, buying new curtains and bigger screens, raising my kids with ice cream bribes, ignoring the news, pretending my neighbor’s sin is on him.
There are children dying because they don’t have water.
There are children orphaned with no one to love them.
There are children sold to be sex slaves around the world.
Most tragic of all, there are people dying without Christ. That’s eternal suffering.
To say that’s none of my business, as a Christian, is preposterous.
It’s absolutely my business. It’s my great commission.
I didn’t major in selfish in college. God didn’t give me breath so I could be comfortable.
I don’t want to live a life of apathy, and I’m definitely not crazy.
I’m stepping into the unknown, following God’s voice.
I cry in the bus because dying isn’t easy.
Life isn’t always fun, but God has plans to prosper me, and I have to trust that.
Ministry isn’t easy. I never know what is going on. I don’t know where I am.
I don’t know how I’m getting to the next place.
I’m running a full sprint, completely blind.
It’s scary and uncomfortable, but it’s my calling.
Dying isn’t easy, but I’m willing.
Are you?
Keep me safe, O God,
For in you I take refuge.
I said to the LORD, “You are my Lord; apart from you I have no good thing.”
You will make known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand.
Psalm 16:1-2,11
