Tuesday, March 3, 2009

A Call

When I came to Gateway, the last thing that was on my mind was missions. After living on the field for twelve years, I was more than ready to try and adjust to living in another foreign country: the United States.
But I've discovered over time that when God puts a call on your life, there is no way escaping it. No matter how hard you try.
On my first day by myself in this weird country, I was sitting in my room at Gateway trying to figure out where to go from there. By then, I had reluctantly left the country I had grown to love, moved back to the place where I was born, and was now getting ready to take part in the Gateway experience.

"What am I doing?"

That's what I said aloud, laying on my bed staring at the ceiling. I was at a point where every road looked the same and it was driving me crazy.
During those next few weeks, I started praying, hoping God would give me direction. I went to church, prayed in the privacy of my room, and read the Bible every day.
One night, I was on my knees and I thanked God for giving me the experiences I had in Mexico. Then, I had a request. I wanted to do his will and all, but I had one exception.

"Please don't let it be something in missions."

Someone once said, "If you want to make God laugh, tell Him about your plans." God must have been rolling in the floor when I was praying. But I was dead serious. At the point, I was burnt out from working in Mexico and I just wanted to do something "normal." And my definition of normal was very specific.
It was about halfway through the semester that I made friends with one of the seniors, Tim Henson. Turns out, he was the president of the Missions Club at Gateway. When the clubs were announced in chapel, that was the one I avoided. I considered Music and Drama, but Missions was the last thing I considered.
But somehow, he convinced to join the Missions Club. I figured I was being unfair, so I decided to give it a go. I was going to go to a few meetings and quietly blow it off after a while. After all, I had requested that God keep missions out of my life for a while.
But as soon as I started going to those meetings, The Sanctuary started holding Spanish services on Sunday afternoons. And I was asked to help out with the music.
Naturally, I was a little hesitant at first. I even told Bro. Dan Scott, who was holding the services, that I would pray about it.
I've noticed that sometimes people use that phrase as an excuse to blow something off. And here I was trying to use that approach.
But Bro. Scott grabbed a hold of me and told that it was now or never. Needless to say, I said I would help.
And it was during that time that I served in the Spanish work at The Sanctuary that God began dealing with me heavily. Over time, I started to feel this burden on my heart and I couldn't feel what it was, but every time I went to church, I would this ache in my soul, like I had I just lost a loved one.
And it was through this burden that I discovered what God's will for me was: missions. I didn't hear Him say, "Go live in a mud hut and preach!" or see a map of a certain country in my head, but it was in a still small voice that I felt like God was drawing me back to what I had been trying to run from. It completely contradicted my plans, but I remembered God's will more than often contradicts what we want.
So here I was, once again, with a map in my hand, trying to decipher what God had told me. The only thing I knew was that I was going to be involved in something overseas.
I started praying once again, trying to find direction. I felt like I was pushing God too much, but I had to know. It was almost as if I was on an Easter egg hunt, trying to figure out under which rock my future was buried.
By the time my second semester started, I was bent on figuring out what my calling was. I knew I had a burden for missions, but I didn't know if I was going to be living in a mud hut or just staying at home and praying for the missionaries.
It was Missions Conference at Gateway when my life did a complete 180. I came expecting to just hear about Missions, hear a few speakers, and then leave.
But the first night, Bro. Scotty Slaydon preached a message about answering the cry. I went to the altar as soon as he was done and when I cam to, I was up against the wall in a ball of tears and snot.
And after crying out to God for what seemed like an hour, I heard Him speak. I was in awe because I heard all the stories of people having God talk to them and now, it was happening to me.
"You're going to go back to where it all started," He said. I couldn't believe my ears. I had run so far only to find that the place where I was supposed to go was right where I had begun.
The following night, Bro. Hopkins spoke and at the altar, we had the most amazing response I had ever seen. People were sprawled out in the floor, speaking in tongues. Some who I had never seen do so before. And it was there that my call was confirmed.
So that's my story. I just prattled for a while to illustrate the point that no matter what you do in life, if you choose to follow God, He will give you a calling. Even if your calling does not include being called to some far distant country, you must pursue it. Either way, it will find you, one way or another.