I got off the plane in another country. It was dark and I had been at the airport or on an airplane since early morning. I was weary as our team loaded their suitcases into the back of the pickup truck that had been sent for us and we began our journey up the mountain to the place we would call home for the next week.
Because I was older than the rest of team, I was given the place of honor in the front of the vehicle. From the moment I stepped into the cab of the truck I felt it. That not-so-gentle tug at my heart that said, “listen well, and ask the right questions.” “But God…” I don’t know why I hold onto these words… ”but God.” I have lived long enough to know that I will lose this discussion. Still God tolerates my attempts to talk Him out of His plan. And when I am done stomping my feet and whining, He asks “are you listening yet?”
This was not really a mission trip. I had come here to help lead a worship intensive – a camp of sorts. But during the next hour in the truck, I opened my mind to listen to the soul of the servant on whose soil I was about to walk. I was about to learn my mission for the week. My eyes caught a glimpse into the work that he had been doing here. My ears heard the cry for laborers for the field. My mouth got a taste of the dust of despair around us. And my heart felt the sorrow and lament of a man who was holding tightly to the last vestige of hope for the people to whom God had called him so many years ago. To say that these were tangible would be an understatement. I think palpable would be a better descriptor.
My father was a missionary when I was young. I remember a little of the heartache and the longing. Many times the rejoicing took years to come. Perhaps this is why I was moved in this moment. Or perhaps it was because I am finding my own way on this uneven ground called ministry. Or maybe it was just because God was calling me to intercede for a soul undone.
Whatever the reason, I chose to put on this servant’s shoes and walk with him a little while. I chose to listen intently to both him and God. And in the listening God reminded us that all David had in his hands was one small, smooth stone, but with God’s power behind him, he took down the giant. And in the listening God reminded us that HE is the Good Shepherd – and all we have to do is feed His lambs. And in the listening, God reminded us that we should invest in the future and stop giving energy to the past. Find the ones with the light in their eyes and teach them to shine in the darkness.
And, at the end of the week when my journey in this man’s shoes came to an end, God spoke once again – this time to MY heart, to MY calling. “Put on YOUR shoes,” He told me. “Go look for the living among the dead, and remind their dry bones how to dance.”