The Greatest Work
When I was
21, I moved to Los Angeles for an internship with a missions organization. It
was an amazing time in my life, and it left me forever changed. I still
remember showing up to skid row dressed in plaid golf pants, red sneakers, and
a matching bow in my hair. One black woman dressed in rags walked towards me
shouting to her friends, “Oh! Look at the cute little white girl!” All I heard
was, “Little girl, who do you think you
are coming down here in your matchy outfit thinking you gonna save me?!” This small-town girl felt so out of place.
I gained a
vision for evangelism that summer. I ditched my suburban worldview and traded
it for a heart that bleeds for people. I have never been the girl that could
talk to complete strangers about weather or gas prices. But I learned to sense
the Holy Spirit and hear the words He did want me to say. I learned obedience
and all about God's faithfulness. I led
worship for the first time in my whole life, me and my acoustic guitar with much
fear and trembling. God you have to show
up because if you don’t and it’s just me up here, it’s going to be all
bad. I talked to addicts about the Jesus who was Hope, always Hope. Even
though I didn’t know what it was like to sleep on the streets or to be high, I
knew what it was like to be without Hope and how there was no pit so deep that
God’s love was not deeper still. I connected with a 6 year old in Tijuana. I
called her Liliana Chistosita, “Silly
Lily en Ingles.” She was the oldest of 4 and while her mother worked, she
looked after her siblings. She had a smile that was brighter than the desert
sun and freckles on her nose. I told her
“JesuCristo te ama, Liliana. Recuerde por siempre.” Always remember Jesus loves you. I still pray for her.
A year
later, I married my hunk of a husband, and we immediately stepped into
children’s ministry. We made slime, gave away a whole lot of candy (your
welcome, parents) and told church kids and neighborhood kids alike about the
love of God. We lived on the poor side of town, on a street that had plenty of
gang activity and drug deals… and a whole lot of children. My street was my
mission field. A few months of living there and just about every kid on that
street knew I had candy, random kid’s games and if they were bored or mom or
dad were high or fighting they could hang out at my house.
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Sometimes,
if I am honest, I look at all that back-then stuff. Sometimes, I feel useless,
like “just a mom.” Is this what being a
housewife is? I can’t shake the knowing that God wants me here, all here,
not working on children’s ministry props, meeting with staff, or writing
lessons. I know I am living in the neighborhood He wants me in, where people
hurry to work and complain about the poor pulling cans out of the dumpster.
God can you still use me? Are you still
speaking? Am I not listening? Am I so wrapped up in life that I have forgotten
that you are the Hope of the world and I have been given the ministry of
reconciliation?
I grabbed my
Bible tonight. Today’s
reading started off with a thought about making the most of every opportunity
especially as moms with our kids. And then I
read this: “Live wisely among those who are not believers, and make the most of
every opportunity. Let your conversation be gracious and attractive so that you
will have the right response for everyone.” (Colossians 4:5-6)
Live wisely
among those who are not believers…
And then it
hits me.
My kids.
Kids are not believers by default. Parents
cannot carry their kids to cross, they can only point the way. Growing up in a
Christian home usually yields a great foundation for a relationship with
Christ, but it does not equal salvation.
I am living
with precious, very moldable, very impressionable children.
And, I am
essentially living with “those who are not (yet) believers.”
I don’t want
to argue at what point a person is saved or whether Jesus living in one’s heart
is Biblical or at what age someone reaches accountability. It’s just not really
the point. My kids might know Jesus. My daughter might have even professed her
desire to have Jesus live in her heart. But she hasn’t outgrown my care. I
still make decisions for her. At some point, my kids are going to grow up and
they are going to have to decide for their own selves what they believe and how
they are going to live.
Right now, the
first place I need to pour out my salt and light is my home.
Perhaps, I
am a bit dense and some of you are going to read this and say “Duh. Amanda.” But my kids are my greatest mission field. They
are my highest and greatest calling. And if there is one thing I learned from
doing children’s ministry, it is this: children’s parents will make the biggest
impact on their life, for better or worse.
Paul says to
live wisely, to make the most, to extend grace.
Instead of attractive conversations, other translations say “seasoned
with salt.” Paul is saying to let your words draw them in, enhance the flavor
of the conversation, and make them thirsty for Christ.
And now I am
looking at myself. The way I carry myself in my home, around my kids. Do I do
that? Do I live thinking of the long term ramifications of my words and actions
on their beliefs? Am I alert, ready, always making the most of every opportunity
to share my faith with my kids? Does the way I parent reflect the way God’s
been so gracious to me, or do I get lazy or let myself get frazzled and just do
what makes for the fastest results? And my words… Do I draw them in, make them
thirsty for Christ??
 |
| My kiddos in the pool with a lizard they caught. |
Your purpose, their soul.
Is there a
grander work you could be a part of?
By Grace,
Amanda Conquers
Amanda Conquers
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