On Holy Ground—my journey to
the International Mission Board’s
Below is my account of the ISC/Journeyman conference.
I have not included any other names for security/privacy reasons.
This afternoon I heeded the conventional advice to get to the airport two
hours early. It was the first time
I’d flown since the 9/11 attacks.
Despite the heightened security, I’d checked in my luggage and made it
through the terminal in about ten minutes.
Two hours to spare and only the sights and
sounds of the airport to entertain me.
I made a few phone calls and then picked up
Hearing God
(by Peter Lord), a book I’ve been reading for
a few weeks now. It has made me more
aware of my need to hear God’s voice.
If there ever was a time I needed to apply this book, it would be this
coming week.
I took out the schedule for the weekend and looked over it.
I wondered what this week would hold in store for me.
On the plane trip to
In
All of us boarded the plane headed for
I ran into one of my former seminary buddies while roaming around the MLC.
I asked her about the interview process I would be going through
soon. She told me they would ask
very personal questions and encouraged me to simply be honest.
I met my roommate upon coming back to my room.
I inquired if he snored, and he replied in the affirmative.
“How many decibels,” I asked.
“Too high to count,” he replied.
He and I spoke for a while and we both went to bed.
My roommate fully lived up to his threats of auditory terror.
The Texas Chainsaw Massacre
has come to
As I lay there I felt a little anxious about the process I would be going
through these next few days. I asked
God to guard my heart with his peace as promised in Philippians 4:7.
I also picked up my laptop and typed much of this date’s entries.
God, forgive me for neglecting time with you this past month.
Samuel learned to recognize your voice in one night—“Speak, for
your servant is listening.”
I am listening.
The strange bed and my roommate’s thunderous slumber made for a poor night’s
sleep. We both woke up before
I started to sit in on a commissioning service held on campus, but it was
packed. Instead I went to the library
and sent out a mass email asking for prayer.
Getting the registration packet was a little overwhelming.
The large binder was about the size of a small city telephone
directory. Multiple forms were included
and the request list for missionaries was staggering.
Out of all these potential opportunities, how would I ever find
the right one for me? Some of the
college ministry spots in the
All of the prospective missionaries met together for some introductory
large group sessions.
There looked to be about a hundred of us.
The presentations varied from basic information to serious challenges.
We were told of the unprecedented number of missionaries who are
now serving all over the world. We
were also warned not to take this responsibility lightly.
Sometimes these challenges took an intense tone, and we were warned
that every subject would be fair game for discussion.
I made and inquiry and discovered that my one year limit on serving may
not necessarily be a barrier (most of listed positions had a 24 month minimum
for serving). I was told that the
time factor could be negotiable in some cases.
This was good news—it opened the possibility of going to my choice
jobs/destinations.
Today I survived the sleep deprivation much better than I anticipated.
I worked on some forms and went to bed early, hoping to catch up on some
sleep.
The weather had turned progressively colder over this day, complete with
a dissecting wind.
Lord, may your strength be made perfect in my weakness.
Thank you for reminding me just how weak I really am.
I managed to get at least five or six hours of sleep last night.
This took some resourcefulness.
I enjoyed talking with my roommate, but trying to sleep in his
proximity another night would be impossible.
The gentleman who was in the room next door left a day or two
ago. I pulled up my covers and moved
to the vacant room.
We had our first small group session after morning worship.
Our group leader asked us a few questions about our families and
our salvation experience. The answers
varied greatly from person to person.
The next large session consisted of presentations from several regional
leaders. Every presentation was so
moving; every country had tremendous needs.
I felt tears welling up, threatening to shatter my stoic exterior.
The next time block allowed me to talk with a representative about collegiate
ministry in the
Another large session of regional presentations was next.
The same emotions were stirred.
The time for my one on one interview had come.
Years of counseling ministry have trained me to be a listener,
to hear others bear their soul. The
role reversal was a little uncomfortable, and I was asked about several aspects
of my life. Answering some of these
questions for a virtual stranger was not always easy, but I made it through.
After lunch we had another touching regional presentation.
The second group meeting followed later in the afternoon.
Our facilitator asked us to talk about our call and what lead
us to this point. Hearing the testimonies
of my peers was incredible.
The final large group session was the last structured activity.
We were challenged again to examine ourselves and consider the
conduct that would be expected of us while overseas.
The final challenge came in the form of a list entitled
counting the cost. We saw the
names of a few people that had died while overseas within the last decade.
We were told that our safety could not be promised.
This session ended with an open sharing time for the entire group.
Tomorrow I should hear word on my prospective jobs in the
Part of me was thinking this whole idea is crazy.
Lord, you intervened when Joseph decided to put Mary away secretly.
Please stop me if I am about to make the wrong decision.
I am inspired but fatigued; I can’t make this decision with natural
discernment alone.
Last night I got another five or six hours of sleep in the vacant room
next door. I was still a little tense,
knowing that today I’d have to make a final decision regarding my choices
for overseas work.
The rest of the day seemed like a blur.
The events were structured similarly to the previous day.
There were a few large group and small group sessions intertwined.
Time was also allotted to speak with regional representatives
about potential areas of service.
The West Pacific representative welcomed me enthusiastically to join the
college ministry in
Words simply cannot describe the psychological whirlwind that was today.
I’ve never had to choose between continents, islands, cities,
and people groups, all of which desperately need the Gospel.
I know God’s kingdom will do fine without me, and I know He can
reach these people without me. I’ve
just never been faced with the needs of the world as I have this week.
I felt like a starving father having to decide which child to
feed.
Lord, I’ve chosen as wisely as I know how.
The rest is up to you.
Today was the final day for any formal activities at the
The rest of the day was free after lunch.
I checked email and surfed on the internet for a while, looking
up some information on my potential places of service.
I can’t remember the last time a week has made such a dramatic impact on
my life. The call to missions has
been permanently etched into my heart.
I have heard the cry of a lost world.
I can never be the same.
Lord, thank you for breaking my heart.
Here I am; send me.
