“Peter began to say to Him,
’Behold, we have left everything and followed You.”
God said, “Truly I say to you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or farms, for My sake and for the gospel’s sake,
but that he will receive a hundred times as much now in the present age, houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and farms,
along with persecutions;
and in the age to come, eternal life.…”
– Mark 10:29
Early this week when a missionary we had never met before dropped me a line to meet for dinner with Cliff and I, we couldn’t help but feel slightly guarded. Over time, we had been approached by various people who had strong suggestions about where or how we should serve the poor in various places, in various capacities. In a season where we were presented with a plethora of options, we wanted to be still and hear from God about our direction in the near future, and not served yet another platter of savory suggestions.
However, it turned out to be a relaxing and very encouraging meet-up. Dinner was over cheap but mouth-watering local fare. Charred carrot cake, glistening with deliciousness , beef noodles and soya bean drinks round the table, underneath a big red umbrella on an open rooftop under a night sky, listening to stories of faith, miracles and encouragement by a couple who has been tirelessly serving the poor in an underprivileged part of East Asia. Not once did they give us a proposition or suggestion. Instead, these two strangers met with us purely to learn more about our journey, share more about theirs and to encourage us with words of wisdom.
Having to leave a medical career behind, was not easy for the missionary doctor too.
We were having a chatty, light-hearted conversation about cross-cultural differences, mee-pok (Singaporean-style Chinese noodles), and urban pollution when, in the midst of this all, I heard the missionary doctor say, “Some people are willing to go, but plan to stay; others plan to go, but are willing to stay.”
When he said those words, I froze momentarily. Neatly encapsulated, he very well expressed my struggles in my own journey towards missions, and my agony pulsing in my heaving heart whenever someone shared with me that they “wanted”, “longed”, “wished” to do missions, but never took any tangible action towards that goal other than the occasional verbal expression.
It had disturbed and still disturbs me, because it grieves me to know that anyone should think the journey to doing mission work is anywhere near easy, convenient or should come naturally. As Cliff and I continue to reach out to youth and speak at various platforms about community service, we meet more and more youth who express to us their desire to help and to serve. This is wonderful- but this flame must be kept alive. And just as how easily a flame can choke and die out in a gale, sandstorm or get quenched in a spat of rain, it takes a continual, deliberate and constant effort to protect this precious glow and keep it ablaze. Work, relationships and the worries of life make convenient excuses. Words, or a lamp hidden under a bowl in one’s heart, are simply not enough.
“Some people are willing to go, but plan to stay.”
Those words resonated in my head, long after we had polished off the last morsels.
Some years back when I was working in the Emergency department, I remember a senior doctor who looked at me benevolently when he asked what it was that I wanted to do with my life, and I said, “Missions.” I will never forget the tone of regret and look of remorse on his face, how stunned and crestfallen his countenance was when he finally whispered back to me, “Good on you, Wai Jia. I had always wanted to do mission work in a rural place… but I got married, she wasn’t like me. Then I had kids, and this is my life now. You and your husband are different, all the best to you two.”
Abruptly, he turned to attend to another sick patient, leaving me shaken. He was a strong, outgoing man, the kind you would expect to go rock-climbing or bunjee jumping. It was a poignant moment for us. Because right there and then, I saw how our decisions very early on in life can affect our destiny. And too often, we let ourselves slip into one decision which slips into another all too comfortably.
“You are so blessed to find a missionary husband,” some say. I will not deny that. But it angers me when this is said with a it’s-easier-for-you-but-i-have-important-things-to-see-to-here or it’s-easier-for-you-cos-you-fell-in-love-with-a-missionary attitude. There were dark nights of tears and pain, of learning to obey and let go and blindly follow the calling I could not yet fully see. Decisions made to date (or not date) certain people, decisions about how to spend one’s time, money and holidays, decisions made about one’s career… all these were times of painful confrontations with God, honest confessions to oneself and a searing process of letting go altogether and dying to oneself. None of this process is easy, and should not be.
It is not so much my own achievements or abilities or determination that made me “strong” to stay on track, it was simply God’s mercy as I cried to Him, sharing with Him my deepest hurts and fears and apprehensions- of being alone, of being forgotten, of disappointing loved ones, of being behind everybody else.
My point is that it has been, still is and will continue to be a challenging journey. We can all be willing to go, but are we planning our lives to go too? When we plan our annual leave, do we scramble to find the next scenic getaway or try to source for a community service trip; when we decide to spend our savings on a feast or a movie treat, do we have a charity or a busker to bless in mind too; when we date or look for a life partner, does sparks and their status rank higher than compassion and the heart to serve the poor? And later on, when we make decisions like buying a home or car, do we think of how any of these decisions have an impact on that mystical fancy faraway fairytale dream to take a facebook-able photo of ourselves sitting with dirty smiling children on a roadside?
I restrain myself.
Words are not enough. Being willing is not enough. We must will ourselves, against the odds, to do, as well.
All these big decisions don’t happen unconsciously. But they can, if we are not aware of how we make little decisions in life. I remember, as a teen, I deliberated so long over whether or not to pierce my ears, because all that money buying frivolous ear-rings could buy a starving child somewhere an education in time. I did, eventually, but not after speaking to many missionaries about my thoughts, and setting clear guidelines for myself. It was a very small, almost laughably insignificant decision, but to me it reflected a commitment to God who had sacrificed so much for us but had to endure us turning our backs on Him, time and again.
Lately, I had heard someone say, “I’m in too deep.” He had planned for years to be a doctor and then a missionary, and then was now marrying someone who overtly expressed no inclination at all to travel to rural places and requested a “certain minimum standard” of living. He was willing to go, but everything- from his plans to buy a landed property to getting a car to applying for further studies to marrying the love of his life were all signposts to a plan to stay.
“I have things to take care of here,” he said. “But it’s not that I don’t want to go.”
“Oh,” I reflected.
“ And besides, what do I tell her? That maybe we’re not meant for each other because God has called me to serve the poor? And actually I don’t have a concrete plan on how that’s going to look like anyway?”
“Sounds like you’re in a tough place.”
“ I think I’m just afraid of confronting God about this- I’m… I’m just in too deep.”
Few know about the huge argument Cliff and I had after we decided to marry. We had discussed the possibility of God calling us to serve for life in different countries before we tied the knot- what would happen then? We knew that if God had called us to be together, then surely He would have the same destination for us, but if not, it was Cliff who suggested perhaps God had other plans for each of our destinies, separate from each other. I was outraged. We didn’t speak for days- but it was a clear reflection of his commitment to God, and his obedience to Him, whatever the cost. Looking back, I respect him more.
“So what do you mean by planning your life around your calling?”
“Well, after speaking to various missionaries, Cliff and I made a decision early on not to buy a house, or a car, or get involved in any debt or investments… We want to be mobile in case God calls us anytime.”
“Oh I can’t,” he said without hesitation. “My girlfriend- she needs a minimum standard of living. There is no way we will rent a house, and no way we can live without a car.”
The thing is, as much as we hate to admit the gravity of it all, our decisions today, do affect our destiny tomorrow. Being willing is important, but so is obeying.
Are you willing to go? That is an important question.
But I am learning, even more important is the question:
Are you willing to count the cost?
So if God has put that niggling calling inside of you and you’re willing to go and serve, plan your life as such. Be willing to count the cost, seeing what we have as all but temporal, and little by little, God will show you the way ahead.
Don’t miss the mark God has for your life.
“As long as you would not obey, you were in the way.
Watch where you begin to debate and to put what you call duty in competition with God’s call.
“I know He told me to go, but then my duty was here;”
that means you do not believe that God means what He says.”