“So how you like bein’ a missionary?”

The question caught me off-guard. I find myself still adjusting to such a title, yet the thick accented, freckle-faced thirteen year old boy that sat across from me at the church’s New Year’s Eve party didn’t seem the least bit hesitant to hand out such a label.

While I was still forming some sort of sophisticated response (admittedly more for the nearby adults also awaiting my reply) John’s next comment came with a jolt of new life and purpose sent straight to my spirit. “I wanna be a missionary, too,” he beamed.   

Coming home for Christmas has been full of mixed emotions. I am so happy to see my family again; it was the idea of “rest” that worried me. God has taught me an enormous amount these past few months and the last thing I wanted to do was get out of the practice of those things. Ever so faithfully, God has repeatedly shown that that was not His desire for this time either.  On the drive back to Arkansas I felt overcome with the desire to share with as many people as possible the greatness of our God. I considered asking my pastor if I could speak at church again, but didn’t want them to feel the need to take an offering, and knowing time was limited, I decided against it. Then Sunday morning during worship, I felt God give me a passage to share with the congregation. I waited and waited, but the time to share it never came. On the way to eat after church, one of the associate pastors called me, told me the pastor was sick and asked if I would be interested in preaching that night.

Ha! Cool, God. Very cool setup.

A couple days later I met up with one of my old high school buddies. My heart broke as she talked about the painful stories that have consumed her life over the past couple years. A young woman so desperately needing genuine community around her, yet so unable to find it.

The day after that I met with a newer friend who spent 12 months in Africa and is now waiting patiently for what’s next, she too longing for a strong Christlike community. With each visit, I saw how God had compassion on them through me, and I was able to listen to their stories and speak life.

The rest of 2009 was spent with John and his sister, Eva. Oh, how the Kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these! While it’s uncomfortable to think that people look up to me, I’m realizing now that wonderful opportunities come through such moments. While I was a teenager consumed with my own life, there were little kids running around church watching and learning from what I did. Now I’ve grown up- and so have they- and me coming home is a highlight for them, because they hear stories of God at work in my life, and the adventure that awaits a heart set on Him.