Add a Log to the Fire

It won't be that cold at night. I'll be fine.

That's what I told myself when I realized that I did not have a sleeping bag for the World Missions workshop this past weekend. I didn't have time to find one, so I shrugged my shoulders and grabbed some warm pajamas and a blanket. I'm tough, right? I'm used to sleeping in cold weather, right? No big deal. It won't even be that cold.

Well, I'm not tough as I thought, and I am certainly not used to sleeping in a Cambodian hut in thirty degree temperatures with a blanket on a plywood floor. Our hut was a typical Asian house, made of bamboo, thatched with straw, and elevated about seven feet off the ground. Freezing night air blew in between the bamboo and into the hut, but it also drafted up from beneath the floor.When I layed down on that raised floor and felt the cool night air both above and below me, I was so ridiculously cold that all I could do was laugh. I was already shaking with chills, so it was almost a natural reflex to start shaking with laughter. Plus, the whole scenario was just too funny. I couldn't believe I had let myself get into this!

My friends, Ann, Rachel, and Kaitlin,were laughing with me because of the cold, except they all had sleeping bags. But we were a family for the weekend, so Rachel generously invited me to sleep with her inside her sleeping bag that night. After ten minutes of hysterical laughter as we both tried to worm our way into one sleeping bag, we finally got situated. The sleeping bag wouldn't zip up all the way, and we felt like we were trying to squeeze into a prom dress that we had outgrown. We tried sucking in our stomachs and squeezing closer together while pulling at the zipper, but we were just too big! So we slept all night (kind of..) spooned up against each otherm trying to keep the zipper closed, and awakening each other every 30 minutes so that we role over in a coordinated fashion. You should have seen us when we woke up the next morning. I looked over at Rachel, who, with her drooing eyes and frazzled hair, said, "We have got to try something different tonight." Then we burst into another fit of uncontrollable laughter.

The World Mission Workshop exceeded my expectations and provided me with an experience that lit a fire in my bones. Not only was it humbling to sleep in that Asian house on stilts, but I experienced many other eye-opening situations. For example, our dinner one night was the reuslt of bartering at the foreign market for our family of fifteen. With a few small resources, we were able to purchase some meager ingredients and cook on an open fire. I ate a half a cup of rice, potatoes, and onions for dinner. The next night for dinner, all seven hundred people who attended the workshop gathered in a field to eat. There was a white, cloth-covered table in the middle of the field, and about twenty people were selected to dine at the table, where they were served salad, baked potatos, steak, rolls, and dessert. The rest of us stood in a soup line to be handed a small bowl of chili and rice. We sat on the dirt next to the table. The table represented the 5% of the world that holds the majority of the worlds resources. As I sat near the table with my bowl of rice and smelled the fresh rolls, I realized that we (Americans in the U.S.A.) are the ones reclining at the table while the rest of the world goes to bed hungry.

Even more important than the classes and the simulations was the atmosphere of the whole workshop. I was surrounded by people who have been missionaries, who are missionaries, or who are serious about becoming missionaries. Every person held a sincere passion in their hearts for sharing God's love through missions, and when we gathered together, that passion glowed like the bright orange fall leaves when the sun hit them in the morning. And these people son't just talk about missions; they go. They don't just support missions; they live them. They aren't just intereted in speaking Jesus' name, they are so in love with Him that they are sincerely doing it. When we were together praising God, studying His Word, or encouraging one another to proclaim His fame, we became a burning fire. The energy in that group added a log to my own fire as well. I have never been more passionate about mission work than I am right now. I felt so at home among those people, so inspired by their passion, so motivated by their faith.

May you be encouraged by these simple reflections, and may you gently feel the tug at your heart to step down from the white, cloth-covered table to touch a child of God in Jesus' name. We are ambassadors for Christ, representing His name and spreading His reputation wherever we go. We are a fragrant aroma to the world, whether that world is your home, office, or in a breezy hut in Cambodia. Jesus came that they may have life, and have it abundantly (John 10:10). I have never felt such a passion in my bones to GO and share that life, pointing to Christ alone as the source.

Thank the Lord that He is good, and that He has placed the message of reconciliation in our hands to share it. What a mission, what a calling, what an awesome God we know.

And don't worry - I found a sleeping bag, so Rachel and I slept great in Cambodia.

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