Back in my teens, I often ran to the front just as quickly as the one beside me when there was an altar call. “Will you go to the nations?” “Will you change the world?” “Will you obey the call and sacrifice it all?”
“Yes, yes, a thousand times yes.”
It was such a noble and courageous thing in my mind–to go where the sick and poor needed me, where they would hear about Jesus and thank me for saving their miserable lives. I’d be a savior of sorts, bringing Jesus up in the rear.
A few decades later, I see more clearly. I don’t need to “go” anywhere to be like Jesus, to prove my devotion, to wave my obedience flag, to change the world. And if I went without love, I’d do more damage anyway.
The reality is that an ever-deepening love for God starts overflowing with genuine love for others — my husband, children, friends, the people at the grocery store, the political posters on Facebook, the homeless people at the stoplight. And that love doesn’t look like preaching or loud prayers. It’s a look in their eyes. A touch. Maybe some money. A quiet prayer. A text message. A smile.
Just like Jesus.
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