unreached

I’m sitting on my couch, trying to look up ‘unreached people groups’ on my phone because I don’t have internet.

I have to do this tonight.  Because I think there are only a couple of things that I really know right now.  I mean, there are only a couple of things that I don’t just ‘say’ I believe, but things that if I’m wrong about them, this whole life thing is worthless to me.

Thing one: I want Jesus to come back.  More than anything.  So much that right now when I think about it there’s a physical tightening in my chest.  And it’s not just an excitement or anticipation (although it is that) – it’s almost physical pain.  It’s an anxiety without fear or need; a desperation or longing.  I guess the Bible calls it a groaning.

And if there’s something I could do to speed His return – I’m in.

Thing two: I want to see lost people get saved.

I want that.  Because just the idea of it feels me with this weird joy, and I’m starting to think that just as my truest happiness is found in Jesus, the practical implication of that might be that my truest happiness is found in being in His will.  I’m starting to think – because of the weird joy that fills my heart when I think about the lost getting saved – that my only hope for that kind of deep and lasting joy is to throw off all this stuff that keeps getting tangled around my legs, and just freakin run already.  To get to see lost people get saved.

Here’s what I want, and this might be thing 3:  I want my sister to worship with me.  For eternity.

I ache for her to come home to Jesus with me.  And I guess it makes me think about how much God must ache for His children across the world.  The children who are tucked away and hidden from obvious view of the Gospel.  Hidden away because God – in His great grace – has ordained that we go and tell them.  He has ordained that His people take word of His rescue plan to His kids.

If there were a group of children in slavery right now in Botswana, and some judge came to me and said – “hey, we have some great news – those kids can be free.  We just need someone to go and tell them.”  I’m not sure I would be like – well, I hope someone goesI mean – I can’t cause I have to go to school, or because I have a job…but surely someone should let them know…

I’m not sure I would sit on my couch and watch TV knowing that those kids were in chains – not because they had to be anymore – but because no one would go and tell them that salvation has come.

I guess that somewhere deep inside, I must think that freedom from physical chains is more real then the Gospel.  I guess somewhere deep inside I must think that earthly freedom is better news than the freedom that lasts for eternity.  And that is a lie.

God has children in every tribe, tongue and nation, and He has sent Jesus to bring them home: their freedom has been bought, but they are still in chains right now.  Why?  Because you and I have the news of their freedom, but we would rather sit on our couches and watch tv then let them know of the hope that is in Christ Jesus.

Right now.  People are dying.  And you and I have the truth that saves.  And we lock it inside of us; scared to even share it with our family or coworkers just in case they get offended.

This Gospel thing is either true or it isn’t.  If it is – then it is the only thing that matters.

This ‘work’ of telling the captives that they can now be free isn’t left to someone else.  You don’t have to wonder if it’s the call on your life.  If you are a believer – it is. We are the ordained messengers.  We are called out to be God’s ambassadors.

That’s the truth I can’t get around tonight. I am supposed to be the one.  I’m supposed to be the one to pick up the phone and tell my sweet sister that I love her, but it’s a drop in the ocean compared to the love of the Father.

I’m supposed to be the one to tell her that it is time to come home.  That our Dad is waiting.  With open arms.

I’m the one who is supposed to tell the world that there is a name that saves.

And supposed is the wrong word.  I’m not ‘supposed’.  I get to do this.  I am the one who has been given the greatest message that ever came to earth.  I’m the one who has been given the joy of getting to spread the news.  It’s grace.  It’s grace that God would send us.  It’s grace that you or I – as wretched as we are – would get to go.  It’s grace that I get to have His name on my lips.  I’m ‘graced’ to get to testify to redemption that was bought with perfect blood.  I’m ‘graced’ to be the one to go.

God – give me the grace.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *