One of my pastors recently shared about a meeting he had while visiting pastors in an Asian country. His goal was to collect advice and wisdom to share with Middle Eastern church leaders, most of whom are refugees faced with the opportunity to return home. He was blown away by the response he got from the Asian pastors, all of whom have been arrested for practicing their faith openly. Here’s what he wrote down.
A visa is not the goal. America is not heaven. The Middle East is your promised land, because it’s where God has called you. Go back home, whatever’s left of it. Settle down, and let God use you.
To this day, I’ve never been arrested for following Jesus. I’ve never been forced to leave my country for my ethnicity or family background. For that, I am so grateful. But I do know what it’s like to want to flee. I know what it’s like to wish for a new season, or a new home, or an old community, or a different set of circumstances. I know what it’s like to question God’s goodness and faithfulness. I know what it’s like to want to quit and find something easier to spend my life doing.
And so as I sat listening to my pastor share of his travels and teach from Philippians 2:12-18, I wasn’t inspired or encouraged. I was convicted. I often do very little without grumbling or arguing. My heart doesn’t always feel like it’s shining as a star in the sky. I don’t choose to rejoice some days.
But as I let the Holy Spirit gently nudge me, I also felt the grace of Jesus’ work hit me like a tidal wave. This is the promised land. The kids and the work and the school. The new church with its new routines and new faces. The seasons that either don’t change quickly enough, or are far too short. The body, the marriage, the house that isn’t ever quite good enough for my tastes. This is all the promised land. God called me to it. Time to settle down and let Him use me.