I love reading pretty much the entire content of mission websites. It really opens my eyes and my heart to the nations and their needs. A few days ago, I was reading about a mission to the Peruvian Amazon. At the bottom of the short descriptive paragraph were the two words "Extreme Mission."
Ha! said I. Horrid advertising. Who would agree to go on something called an "extreme mission"?
There was silence for a moment, and then the answer came: Well, Kendall... You said you would.
Hrrrmm.
"Anyone who does not take his cross and follow Me is not worthy of Me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for My sake will find it."
When I gave my life to Christ, I declared that nothing was too extreme. Nothing was impossible. I agreed to believe that He would be my Provider, my Defender, my Everything. I promised that I would lay down my life day after day.
And I want to say to Him, "No, God. That's too extreme"? He gave up everything for me, and I would refuse to please Him because I like my own comfort and safety too much?
The words "Extreme Mission" should, in most cases, be superfluous to us. We should be delighted to do something the world considers extreme. We should count the cost, but count it at the foot of the cross, and there find that nothing is too much to ask of us who owe our lives to Jesus Christ.
The little dialogue with the Holy Spirit continued. The Peruvian Amazon can wait. I have something a little more attainable that you can be doing right now.
Thrilled to be let off the hook for a while at least, I was eager to find out what this might be.
Suppose I did call you to Peru. Suppose I called you to go on this "extreme mission" one day -- to travel three days by boat to reach the unreached, to have little more than the clothes on your back, to trust Me for your next meal, to walk for miles on end without stopping. Could you do it?
Apparently reformed by my previous hesitation, I answered triumphantly, "With all my heart!"
Your heart, yes -- but what about your body?
Long, awkward pause. "Now that's just mean."
No. No, I could not do it. Not because God can't take care of me, but because up until now, I have not taken care of what He gave to me. It would not take long for my body to give out on me. And so He began to impress it on my heart: My life is not my own. My heart is not my own. My mind is not my own.
My body is not my own.
And so, Peruvian Amazon in my future or no, I have entered what I like to call "Extreme Mission Training." For me, that consists of, well, working out. Becoming a good steward of what God has given me. "Extreme Mission Training" wouldn't usually be as pathetic as thirty minutes on a treadmill every day...but hey, I'm also learning some things about humility.
"If there be any reserve in my giving to Him who so loved that He gave His dearest for me; if there be a secret 'but' in my prayer, 'anything but that, Lord,' then I know nothing of Calvary love." ~Amy Carmichael
God has asked me for several things in my life that are incredibly dear. After much arguing, He wins them from my grasp, and I promise, "Everything, God. Everything for You."
Except the things I don't think He could possibly use. It's amazing the things I think God couldn't care less about; the things that I think are small enough that I'm entitled to keep them for myself.
Are you willing to go to all lengths for your Savior? Maybe He is calling you to reach the unreached; or maybe He's preparing you for that call by asking for something else that seems much smaller. But for the God who could use five loaves and two fishes to feed thousands, nothing is too small to give Him. There is nothing He cannot use.
And there is nothing He is not infinitely worthy of.
