I woke up one day somewhere in the middle of my twenty-ninth year a little panicked. I had been walking with the Lord about five years at the time. I had a comfortable life. I had married a wonderful man. I had a great job. Things seemed to be going so well. But somehow, I was left with the sense that there was more I could be giving and more I should be doing for the kingdom of God, and it felt urgent to me. So, I began naively praying what I now know can be a dangerous and life-changing prayer: “God, there has to be something more You want me to do. Please use me.”
The very first thing God did in answer to my prayer was demand the removal of some idols in my life. I would never have classified some of these things as idols, (food, cigarettes, a couple of people, some much-loved magazines, and tv shows, to name a few) but I began to see them that way as God showed me what I had been placing before Him. The funny thing about idols..you don’t even know many of them are taking precedence before the Lord until He reveals them to you. And when He does reveal them, you’re not moving forward until you release them. WE are holding onto THEM. This was a continuance of opening my eyes to who He really is and who I really am. Whew! That part was rough. Is rough.
With the idols jerked away, I was in a new state of communion with my Lord. I could hear the Holy Spirit more clearly with my heart and ears turned toward Him expectantly. My relationship with God was deepening to a new level. And I heard the Holy Spirit say to join a mission team from my church to the Philippines. Repeat that, please? Ha. Thankfully by then, He had me in a place of surrender. He didn’t whisper it; He said it. The call to go there was undeniable to me, even though I didn’t exactly know when or how. I was met with some resistance from my friends and family, but I was undeterred because I was so certain of the call, and I knew He would send me in His ability, not mine.
The day after Christmas that year, I boarded a plane with my team and landed after two days of travel in the Philippines. Only God knows why I felt like I was home the second my feet touched the ground there, but I do remember understanding for the first time the feeling of being a foreigner and yet being accepted into a place that was not my homeland. Turns out, that’s a pretty Biblical concept, the loving of foreigners. And now I understood.
We spent those two weeks filling in for the staff at a wonderful children’s home. God did a work in me through that children’s home that would take a year to articulate, but I want to focus on one thing that He did and is still doing in me five years later. He truly opened my eyes for the first time to the hurt and suffering of others. And I was undone.
The children’s home is nicely protected by a gate and a tall chain-link fence. Inside there is food, clean water, and love from wonderful caregivers. God always meant for children to live in families, but this sweet children’s home did all they could (and still do) to raise precious, Godly children until they are grown or are adopted into families. Praise God for that!
We prayer-walked the streets and started to get to know the community. I began to notice many unattended children. They were searching for food, begging for money, or just playing alone in the busy streets. I remember seeing three littles, maybe four years old and under, playing with sticks in a trash fire. We were told these sweet babies were called “street children,” meaning that they have no parental care to speak of and needed to fend for themselves. I began to realize the number of street children in the Philippines is staggering. I couldn’t wrap my mind or my heart around what I was seeing.
That first night, as we called all the kids in from the yard at the children’s home, I noticed little hands and feet climbing the fence to look in. They wanted inside so badly. Like I mentioned before, there was food, clean water, and Godliness beyond those fences. We were told it was impossible to let any of them in, because how could we stop at a few? There would be a flood of children coming in, and we couldn’t provide for all of them. So they stayed beyond the gate, and we stayed within. This would be a powerful metaphor in my life from that moment on.
God tore me up over those street babies. I couldn’t shake it, and I still can’t. I woke a teammate in the middle of the night while we were in the Philippines and railed against the unfairness of uncared-for children. I walked around for months in despair. I was totally wrecked.
And I knew. Now that I had seen, I was responsible. I could never un-see the needs in this world that I had previously been blind to because of the privilege I’d been born into.
That trip was the catalyst to a life change for me. I began to love missions because I saw that the only hope was Jesus. When Godly people love God with all their heart, soul, mind, and strength and then love their neighbor as themselves, change will occur. I began to realize that if I wanted to see change, I needed to move my own feet of lead and do the will of the Father.
I’d love to tell you that since then, I’ve been a model Micah 6:8 Christian, acting in the interest of social justice and loving others above myself. But that’s just not true. Sometimes the lessons have been heartbreaking as I realized that God gave me a chance to be His hands and feet, and I bungled the opportunity.
I was in Austin, Texas, visiting with some dear friends and having a blast combing through the stellar thrift stores. This girl LOVES a thrift store, and Austin has the neatest. The four of us had eaten and walked into this store where I was sure I would find thrift store gold. I did find gold, but not in the way I expected. As we neared the back of the store, a gentleman came toward us, and I instantly registered that he was homeless. The Lord had been wrenching my heart over the homeless community in my hometown, and He was changing me and challenging me. This man walked up and said the strangest thing. “Hey, can I get a couple of dollars? I mean, I don’t need any shoes or anything.”
I remember thinking that was the strangest way to ask. I immediately felt the pull of the Holy Spirit to give him some money. I looked into my purse, and I had a couple of larger bills from traveling. My mind raced and I thought, “All I have are large bills. Should I pull them out? I don’t know this city yet. Is this dangerous? Maybe the best thing to do is buy him food. I should give him money.” While I was still arguing with myself, my friend pulled out her wallet and gave him some cash. He graciously accepted and walked away. Though he was taken care of for the moment, my disobedience was like a blow to my chest. I would wrestle with myself over that moment for a long time. God spoke, and I disobeyed. And someone else had to meet the need that I could’ve and should’ve met. I had prayed a prayer, yet here I was, not allowing God to use me as the answer.
About a week later, I was studying Amos, which is sort of a jarring book for me anyway. Disobedience has always been serious to the Lord, and this book makes that abundantly clear. I came to Amos Two, which documents Israel receiving her discipline for her disobedience to God. And as I read Amos 2:6(ESV), I was stopped in my tracks.
“Thus says the Lord:
For three transgressions of Israel, and for four, I will not revoke the punishment, because they sell the righteous for silver, and the needy for a pair of sandals-“
Did that say what I think it just said? Ugh. I felt so sick over my own disobedience. It was a lesson that is ingrained in me for life.
I am not saying that I should give money to every homeless person I see or that I will be the answer to anyone’s hopelessness. I’m saying that I should obey God as soon as He speaks, because He is the answer for hopelessness. He is the father to orphans. He is the defender to the weak. He has let the dirtiest, the neediest, and the worst sinner inside the gate and given us Life, Grace, The Word, and His Righteousness. He has shown me many more things that He would have me be responsible for, and I’m learning to allow the lessons of my disobedience, as well as my obedience, bring me to a place of greater surrender. I want obedience to be my first compulsion and not my last ditch effort after clinging for dear life to my comfort.
I still pray the prayer I prayed five years ago, but perhaps with less naiveté. Now I know it will cost me something in this life for the Lord to use me, but ultimately I will gain it all. I will gain my life when I give it away.