The Blessing of Single Servants
(originally posted on It's A Loveless World 02/03/10)
Now, I know what all you single guys and gals are thinking... What does a couple of married people know about being single? Well, I would like to tell you our story. I turned 27 on April 28, 2003. A few weeks later in May, I arrived at the airport to meet up with the rest of the mission team I was joining. We were taking a month long trip to Quebec and Manitoba, Canada. There in the midst of the girls was a guy. Something about him struck me right away, maybe it was because he was the only guy in the group. My initial thoughts were "I wonder if this is why God wanted me on this trip?" Not too spiritual I know.
Let's back up a little. I was born into a Christian home. My dad entered the pastorate when I was seven. By the grace of God I was gloriously saved at a very young age, 5-yrs-old. You've heard it said that hind sight is 20/20. Well, looking back I can see that God was preparing me for a life in the ministry from the beginning. I knew it was in my heart as a teenager, but I put those thoughts on the back-burner and replaced them with my life's plan. My plan was to meet a handsome dark-haired man at the "mature" age of 18, then we would date until I was 20. After a year engagement, we would be married and after a few years of honeymoon we would start a family, maybe four or five kids. I figured he would probably be going into the ministry and that would solve my need to surrender myself. Well, 18 went by, then 19..., 21..., 24..., One day I woke up and found out I was almost 26 and life hadn't gone as planned. What happened next was a foolhardy thing to do and not something I am proud of.
Late one Saturday, in January 2003, I found myself at my whits end. I was empty inside, except for a nagging feeling that a relationship with God was what I was missing. You see, God never left me, but I had pushed Him out and replaced Him with shattered dreams and a broken heart. That night, I didn't sleep much. Finally, as morning dawned, I slipped out of bed and got on my knees. Mine was not a heart ready for prayer. With tears pouring down, I brazenly told God that He had my soul, but if He wanted the rest of me, HE would have to do something that day in church. If He didn't, then I would stop fighting and go on with my career, being just like most every other christian I knew, service on the outside, cold on the inside. NO feeling would be better than the conviction that was tearing me apart. When you get to that state of spirit, you are completely unaware that you are dangling over a precipice spiritually and God in His mercy is the only thing keeping you from falling. Oh, I could never lose my salvation, but as I have witnessed, a child of God who rebels to this level of a stiff-necked heart is most often taken home.
Let me say here that God is a merciful and gracious God. He wasn't willing to let me go. That morning in church a missionary arrived. Somehow there was a mix up in the schedule, and Dad wasn't expecting him until the next Sunday, but Dad had him preach anyway. Before he preached, I was scheduled to sing. And wouldn't you know it, the hymn I had chosen before this happened was, "I Wonder Have I Done My Best For Jesus." I could barely finish. After I left to hide in the restroom, my Mom met me. I told her that God wanted me, but I was so afraid that He was going to call me into missions alone. After I cried for a moment, I composed myself and went back to service.
That morning the missionary started his sermon by asking, "Do you really want to be like Christ?" Of course I'm sure most of the congregation would agree that we did. He went on to give example after example of what it meant to be like Christ. Christ was willing to leave His home, Christ was willing to be ridiculed and persecuted, Christ was willing to die so that men could be free. It was also during this sermon that he mentioned how we are so often willing to pray for God to send laborers into the field, but how many of us were willing to be the answer to that prayer?