The horizon disappeared behind me as the curvature of the earth seemed to consume the ribbon of road in which I had just trespassed upon. The view from my rear-view mirror was one that seemed to tell a story of progress. A journey of moving forward. A journey where what was left behind was secondary to the importance of what lay before. But in the life of a foreign missionary, what lies in that rear view mirror fully dictates what lies ahead. For it is in the act of leaving it all behind that you truly find out how to approach what lies ahead.
Comfort and convenience. Two words that roll of the tongue like marbles on glass. If I am truly honest those two words were more of a part of me than I ever imagined. In fact, it was a quote on just these two words that is partially responsible for me sitting here in Guadalajara, Mexico writing this piece this morning. Some 8 years ago as we were hearing the call of God to go and serve internationally, a book had been recommended to us. I remember consuming that book, looking for the deep answers I sought within it. But none were found. Yet, as I approached the last chapter, I found a quote from the author that felt like my own heart had issued it. A statement that still resides within my core.
“I was afraid of getting to the end of my life and realizing I had only lived it in selfish comfort and convenience.”
This quote afforded me the realization that, up to this point, this had been a tremendous truth in my life. You see, a human life left to its own devices, desires, and pursuits, will seek these two concepts over all else. Just as a bird building a tidy, soft, comfy little nest, a human life will seek out an existence of personal comfort and convenience and remain there unless evicted by some great external force. Yet as Margie and I forged into a new life of international missions, I never realized what it would entail and cost to truly leave these two friends in my rear-view mirror.
We mourn deeply when we lose those near to us. A mourning that seems to permeate the very cells that create us. A sorrow that you can feel in places that before had never seemed to have the ability to feel. And as I have left the comforts of a familiar, convenient life, it has been a process no less mournful. The first of those was losing the comfort of language. Our language encompasses within it the ability to allow us to express our inner being. We express who we are, what we feel, and what we think through our language. A language I had fully taken for granted. Take that ability away and a soft, smooth life quickly becomes one that feels as sandpaper upon smooth skin. Two years later, yes, the Spanish is better, but it is still an obstacle that looms daily. Last week we were visiting with a Mexican friend that we have known for the full two years we have been in Mexico. As we drew upon our much improved Spanish we told him a story of our service to the Lord in China. He looked at us astounded, a story and a chapter of our lives that he had never known. When he asked why we had never shared that before, we sheepishly admitted that our limited past-tense ability in Spanish had never allowed us to. A fact that, although it generated some laughs, cut us to the core. When you are forced into selecting and presenting a limited version of yourself to those you have come to love, you are forced into a new self. A new creature that has surely left the comforts of simply sharing your life with others.
Truly leaving not just the comfort and convenience of family and the familiar, but the very ingrained ideal of it, has been difficult indeed. But what it has achieved could not have been achieved any other way. For you see, there is a reason that Matthew’s chapter 28 great commission starts with the verb “go.” There is a reason that the men and women of God’s Word left the comfort and convenience of their homes and went for the Lord. Moses went, Noah went, Isaac went, Jacob went, Joseph went, Peter went, Paul went, Timothy went. And yes, even our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, left His home in heaven to go to a place where He was rejected, refused, and crucified. You see, it’s in that tiny two letter verb go, where the real God-infused change happens.
Today as I focus not so much on the rear-view mirror and the terrain that I have overcome; I focus more upon the horizon that stretches far beyond me. In my prideful past, my history seemed to dictate my future. My successes dictating seemingly more guaranteed successes. Yet no more will this formula provide its past results. You see, what going for the Lord does is far remove the idea that you have any control at all. As your idea of comfort, convenience, and control is stripped away, you come to the harsh yet true realization that control belongs solely to the Lord. And it is only here, within this soulful relenting, that you can truly find what the human heart is seeking. It is only here that the Christ-follower can more closely learn of what it means to possess a heart that, even in a miniscule way, can mirror the precious heart that momentarily stopped beating upon the cross. A heart that was broken and torn as the world He came to save tortured Him unto death.
I look around me today to see what items of comfort and convenience I am attached to. They all seem so shallow and empty. Only Christ can be the anchor that is worthy of securing this life. Whatever items that call to me only answer me back with promises that ring hollow. For only when a life is truly and thoroughly stripped of self will it be afforded a glimpse of what is worthy of true dependence. And this journey, although difficult to see at times through the tears, heartache, and confusion, is clear in its message. Only by leaving yourself fully behind can you truly discover and become the new creature that Christ intends.
Today I pray you choose to go for the Lord…and find your change ~ Dan
“And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit. 2 Corinthians 3:18
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