Never the Same Again

There’s a Spanish saying, “He who leaves never comes back, even if he returns.” Let's think about this in the light of missions and missionaries. How has your journey changed you? Why are you different?

Another Spanish saying is: “I didn’t change. I only learned, and learning isn’t changing. It’s growing.”

I’d like to spend a little bit of time challenging you to use your missionary journey—whatever stage you’re in—for learning and growing.

Sometimes, the journey can just feel like necessary tediousness.

Deputation is one church after another, travel, tiredness, trying to keep the kids clean and appropriately dressed—while you try to do the same. Deputation can feel long and unending, and we all have our horror stories. Sometimes, missionaries feel like itinerant beggars while trying to raise support. They might have lost the learning and growing in this stage of the journey.

Newbies arrive with stars in their eyes. “We’re finally here,” they say as they unpack, take hundreds of pictures, and begin to learn the fine art of driving, shopping, and figuring out how to do the basics. The stars quickly dim as language learning begins and people stare and them and simply won’t listen. If you’re in the dimmed-eyes stage, you might be missing out on the learning and growing.

Second termers are excited about a new church plant, and they are gung ho. The church is prospering, and God is good. Then comes the criticism. Jealous missionary brethren attack. Co-workers betray. People they’ve led to the Lord turn their backs on them—and seemingly, on God. Disappointment in people can totally blind these missionaries to learning and growing.

Veteran missionaries might find themselves in a rut. Day after day, they strive to be faithful, to be a light in a dark place—the place they call home. They know by this time what works and doesn’t. They understand the field so well they’ve become one with it. They need spiritual and mental refreshment and don’t even realize it. They may have quit learning and growing.

What will help us learn and grow? There is only one answer. We absolutely positively need personal time with God. There are three elements that will help us learn and grow:

1. Worship—Worship is adoration of God. It is praise and positive prayer. There are many ways to achieve private worship. Let me suggest just a few: study the biblical names of God, and praise Him for Who He reveals Himself to be. Sing an old hymn to the Lord. They are packed with doctrine! You can’t sing “Crown Him with Many Crowns” without ending up in adoration. Read the Psalms. Most of them are full of praise—even after laying out a very sad case. But I will hope continually, and will yet praise thee more and more (Psalm 71:14). Study God’s attributes and thank Him for them. Worship is all about God and Who He is.
2. Prayer—I recommend prayer before Bible reading, simply because it works for me to talk to the Lord, ask Him to open His Word to my understanding, and tell Him all the things I want to before I focus on the Bible. I believe in total transparency with God in prayer. If we are to cultivate a true relationship with Him, we need to be honest. Tell Him your concerns, gripes, sadness—and your joys, victories, and gladness. Be open. Trust in him at all times; ye people, pour out your heart before him: God is a refuge for us. Selah (Psalm 62:8). And, after you talk, listen. A lot of times, we women do a lot of talking and not much listening. It’s especially important after praying to see what God has to say to us. Speak; for thy servant heareth (from 1 Samuel 3:10). Then, open your Bible.
3. Bible reading and study. The Bible is the only living book. There just isn’t another that actually ministers to the reader. None other is inspired by God and applied by the Holy Spirit. For the word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any twoedged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart (Hebrews 4:12). I remember years ago that I had a very negative experience. I couldn’t seem to shake it. It occupied my thoughts, and I was extremely hurt. I prayed, and those thoughts continued to swirl around. I felt bruised. But then, I almost had to laugh because, no matter where I turned in the Bible for the next week or two, verses popped out to me. All were on the same theme: that God would take care of it. They were also specific to the need. They were exactly the guidance I needed. Was this a coincidence? I don’t believe it for a minute! When I have sought His Word in moments of crisis, this has always happened. God’s word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path (Psalm 119:105). He actually speaks to us through His Word!

Do you want to learn and grow?

• Accept all of your missionary experiences along the way as lessons.
• Worship the Lord for Who He is and keep your eyes on Him, not on people.
• Talk to God about everything—the good, bad, and ugly. Listen for His response. (Many times, He will bring to mind a Scripture.)
• Open your Bible and get tutoring from God Himself. Study your Bible. Know it. Keep learning from Him. Apply what you learn to your daily life.

Learn and grow.

Till we all come in the unity of the faith,

and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man,

unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ:

That we henceforth be no more children, tossed to and fro,

and carried about with every wind of doctrine, 
by the sleight of men, and cunning craftiness, 

whereby they lie in wait to deceive;

But speaking the truth in love, may grow up into him in all things,

which is the head, even Christ (Ephesians 4:13-15).

God bless you!

by Lou Ann Keiser, in Basque Spain for more than 34 years

For the Tired Missionary Woman

It happens on deputation. It comes when you’ve made that final push and finally gotten onto the plane to go to your field. It overwhelms when you are trying to adjust to all the new sights, smells, language, and customs. It creeps up when you’ve chased toddlers all day. It hits you hard on Sunday mornings—during church, of all times. You sit down, and you’re so exhausted, it’s all you can do to keep from nodding off. It comes upon you at home when you’ve entertained all week and you finally have time to sit down and have decent devotions. 

You’re tired. 

It can be physical, emotional, over-committed, spiritual, and all of the above—or a few of these in combination.

Every missionary woman gets tired. 

It’s at those tired times that we need to be the most watchful. Since we’re all so different—praise the Lord!—we have various reactions to tired:

1. Press on. This isn’t a bad reaction, but it might nudge you over the top. Be careful not to press on when you should take a few moments to recharge. Take a nap. Cancel something that’s unnecessary. Reevaluate your calendar. Sit down with your Bible and your favorite refreshing drink. Close your door and prohibit entry—unless it’s a life-or-death issue. (I used to tell our kids that they could interrupt if it was for a life-or-death reason, and they’d crack up!)
2. Get angry. When we’re tired, it’s so easy for us to take it out on our family members, the native people, and our field in general. It’s easy to focus on all the things we hate and to forget that we came here in the first place to show God’s love to people who desperately need Him. When anger and negativity creep in, it’s time to totally chill, open our Bibles, and refocus. Why did you come? (Or, why are you on deputation?) Ask God to help you love again. Re-examine your mission statement. Ours is: To open their eyes, and to turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God, that they may receive forgiveness of sins, and inheritance among them which are sanctified by faith that is in me (Acts 26:18).
3. Become discontent. When we’re exhausted, our minds tend to get squawky. Rant, rant, rant—at least in our heads. I don’t like this; I don’t like that. So-and-so didn’t treat me right. I need/want one of those. I can’t afford this or that. I wish I could dress like my fellow missionary lady. Why do those missionaries have it all together? I hate it that I’m single and have to do everything alone. I hate my husband, because he doesn’t meet my needs. My kids drive me crazy! The Bible says contentment can be learned. Paul learned it—in jail, by the way (Philippians 4:11). Ask God to give you a heart of thanks. Put away your squawking and start practicing praise. I will praise thee, O Lord, among the people: I will sing unto thee among the nations (Psalm 57:9).
4. Plan to leave. You are tired of it all. You might have only been on the field a few months or years, or you may have been there for twenty years or more. But, you’re tired. Your heart starts to turn off. You no longer care if the people get saved or not; they’re beyond help anyway. You want to go back home. Your head starts living in another place—and it’s not where you are. You start telling your husband you don’t want to be here. You’re done! This is a “dead-heart” discontentment. It’s dangerous to missions. Where there is no vision, the people perish (Proverbs 29:18b). You need a God-designed heart reset. Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me (Psalm 51:10). When it’s the Lord’s time for you to leave your field, He’ll clearly direct you and your husband, and being content, you’ll know it’s the right time. God will smooth the way, direct the details, and send a replacement, as He sees fit. 

I confess I’ve been all of these places during our more than thirty-year missions career. I’ve been overcommitted, sometimes angry, from time-to-time discontent, and I’ve even been tired of it all and ready to quit. 

But, God in His mercy has taught me through each of these tired times. He’s helped me readjust my focus. He has taught me to rely on Him. God has led me in His will and renewed my joy. He’s given strength in weakness—a specialty of His—and has granted me new mercies every morning. Great is His faithfulness. (based on Lamentations 3:22-23)

But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength;

they shall mount up with wings as eagles;

they shall run, and not be weary;

and they shall walk, and not faint (Isaiah 40:31).

Wherever you are in your missionary journey, when you’re tired, look to Jesus. Pray to Him. He will strengthen you, carry you, and direct you perfectly.

Missionary Fairyland Grocery-ville

I want to take you on a trip. (Don't you just love adventures?)

There is a quaint little shopping spot called Missionary Fairyland Grocery-ville. It's a place made especially for missionary women. Today, I got special permission for anyone (missionaries or just friends of missionaries) to take a tour.

You can drive right up, and parking is always available. Isn't that lovely? You walk in the door and are immediately greeted with two happy things... a smiling door greeter and air conditioning.

As the door greeter hands you a basket, she asks if you need any help, and you respond, "No, thank you." Then you continue down the well-labelled aisles to find the items you need.

Oooohhh! A sale on your favorite items! Within minutes, you maneuver down the spacious aisles and find everything you need. You pile your treasures onto the checkout counter with ease because there was no line. The cashier smiles and greets you politely. She rings up each item as she chats with you. Then she gives you the total. She bags your items as you pull out your wallet. You pay and head on your way. You get home and whip together a fabulous meal with all the perfect ingredients. ***insert happy sigh, pink bunnies, and rainbows***

Back to Reality-ville.

Our favorite seasoning... TexJoy Steak Seasoning.

We bring it from the States.

Sustained Through Fear and Doubt by God's Grace

This week’s Missionary Monday is a guest post, an excerpt of some correspondence that my friend Jennifer McPhail, ministering in Cambodia, has had recently with her mother and sisters.  They enjoyed reading together One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are by Ann Voskamp. Each person read the assigned chapter and then sent an email to the others with their thoughts so that they could discuss its contents with one another as they have time.  Jennifer was supposed to send her contribution but instead chose to express her heart to them about what God had been speaking to her about going to Ta Lo.   

“I have read the chapter, but now I have the beginnings of one of my "Ta Lo headaches" (We often return from Ta Lo with a terrible headache), so I do not promise to do well on book discussion.  Let me add that I am very thankful to have been to Ta Lo today.  In fact, I wanted to share about my day as it relates to Allison's talk about dwelling on worst-case scenarios.

I too have the curse of an over-active imagination.  Yesterday evening when Forrest called Poh about going out there for services today, Forrest was planning to go alone.  We've just recently had all this flooding, and along with the water comes increased snake activity on the remaining dry land.  Peht just recently killed a cobra that was after one of his small children.  So I was glad I wasn't going.  But then Poh's wife asked if I was coming this time, and Forrest asked me if I would.  Both of us have been sick, and with his trip to Phnom Penh (this past week) and the Carlyles coming in tomorrow (returning from furlough), I asked if we could take the truck in, if he thought it would make it.  He did, and so I made plans to take the whole family to Ta Lo.  I know now I must have had some trepidation last night, because I woke up with fear this morning.

My fears were of a number of dangers, but mainly snakes.  And I had unreasonable fear about Sierra and the water or the snakes.  I tried to think how I could stay home or leave them here, but I knew they needed to be with mom and dad on this day and not home alone.  I wrestled and prayed desperately, "Lord, I know this fear is not from you.  I can't control it, and I am going to read my Bible now, but I don't know how it is going to help, since I am reading in Job, Ezekiel, and Revelation!"  I am in the middle of all of these books, so I kind of know the themes, and I couldn't think how God could speak to my need through this.  I started with Revelation 13, since I usually start in the NT.  Verse 10 says,

If anyone is to be taken captive, into captivity he goes; if anyone is to be slain with the sword, with the sword must he be slain.

Here is a call for the endurance and faith of the saints.

I was bowled over!  This passage is in reference to the saints that will be conquered and martyred by the Beast and the False Prophet, but it sounds like it is an encouragement of a sort that if God plans for one of them to be imprisoned or die a certain way, they shouldn't try to escape it.  Instead, endure and have faith! 

It is so obscure and bizarre, but God used this to help me today, and I wanted to share!  The day was not easy, but there were many answers to prayer.  I had to go to the market at 6:45, which is way earlier than a lot of things are usually available, but they had just the things I needed for a noodle stir-fry to take to Ta Lo.  The road was bad, but it was passable, and our 4-wheel drive worked great.  We had lots of family time in the car, and the kids were really into pointing out things to one another and being pleasant (for the most part). 

When we got to the part I was dreading, where we leave the car and walk in through the small lake, the water was lower than I was expecting, about three inches above my knee.  Forrest carried Sierra, and I carried our books and the food bag.  The other kids were troopers, and they just love that walk.  Sierra and I are always trailing way behind, but she loves to skip and stop to look at things.  I tried to look hard at the path but not fret about the tall grasses and rice beyond that.  We didn't meet any snakes, and all six of us got in and out without any leeches, either. 

I did, however, have a number of adventures.  First, it was great that I had brought food, since they didn't have any at home, and hadn't seen any of the itinerant sellers that go out to the "main" road where our car was.  They did kill a chicken, but it obviously wasn't truly ready for butchering and made for a scant soup made with green papaya.  So I used the skills I had learned over the weeks watching Teem and Panna cook for our in-between service meal.  I washed my spinach and made sure I poured the water from that washing into the dish pan.  I chopped my veggies and garlic and disposed of the scraps in the right place.  I used the right knife for the vegetable and the machete for the meat.  And then I went and washed the wok in the dishpan with my used veggie-wash water and a piece of mosquito net for a rag.  I set it on the three stones used for a fire pit, and Teem helped arrange the fire under it.  It was already started from the rice and then the soup cooking.  I got some oil from the "counter" made from the wood planks they are stockpiling to build a better house at some point.  And I cooked my part of the meal over the open fire, squatted down on my heels.  I got to talk to __ about her husband and his church discipline that started today.  He has been such a trial for her!  I told her about Granny (Jennifer’s grandmother was a godly woman who had suffered much from marital difficulties), and I also explained how church discipline helps a sinning believer and puts it all in God's hands and not ours, after we have fulfilled our part of trying to dissuade a brother from sinning. 

Then I noticed that three of my children were in the watering hole out behind the house!  They were so muddy, and they were having a blast!  I had to get more water to clean them off enough for the meal, and I felt bad about that.  Panna was feeling sick, and her baby was ill too, so I asked her what to do, and she had me serve the kids first.  One Khmer platform bed is under the lean-to of their one-room house, and the other is under the thatched kitchen roof.  The adults eat "in the kitchen," and the kids eat and have Sunday school on the bed by the house.  There are not enough dishes for everyone, so we eat in shifts, kids and then adults.  There are usually three glasses to drink out of, but today there were just two, so I am afraid one must have broken.  There are piglets and chickens and dogs and a cat all running around too.  It is a beautiful chaos!

After we ate, I skipped out on clean-up to go teach Sunday school.  Forrest had already taught one session mainly to Poh before we ate, and they would start the worship service whenever clean-up was done, regardless of whether our class was done yet.  Poh had the book since before the flooding, but he expects me to teach when I come out.  That is a little difficult, since I can't prepare the lessons.  So he told me what he taught last time, and I was to go on with Cain and Abel.  I was thinking hard and fast, and so it took me a minute to register when the adorable little guy to my left looked at me with big eyes and said, "Teacher, that's a scorpion on your arm!"  I scrambled around so fast I lost track of the little critter for a minute, and then when I tried to swat it with the lesson book, it went in between two of the planks of the bed platform, and I couldn't get it out.  I was VERY AWARE of my surroundings after that.  Thankfully, I did not get bitten, nor did anyone else.  The six little children out there are so precious, and my four mixed very well with them today.  They played the rest of the time after the lesson, while I went and joined the adults.  There were a couple unsaved people there today, and so much opportunity on every side.”  

Pray for your Missionaries! {Guest Post}

Ten hours to the hospital.  The missionary was almost to his destination.  On the seat beside him sat his sick little girl.  He had to get her to the doctor.  He glanced sideways at her.  How he loved her, this precious little one that God had given him to raise and to protect.


"God," he prayed, "Please help my little girl.  Please make her well.  Please let the doctor know what is wrong with her so that he can know how to treat it."
His whole mind was consumed with praying and with the worry he felt in his heart.  Normally, when he drove the roads in that country, his mind stayed on high alert to what was going on around him, but on that day, his only thought was to get to the doctor FAST.  


As he neared a one-way bridge in the road, he noticed a semi truck coming on fast from the opposite direction.  He could see that the semi would easily make it to the bridge before he did which meant he was going to have to stop and wait his turn.  His foot touched the brake pedal, and the car gradually slowed to a stop on the side of the road.  The missionary stared at the oncoming truck but his mind was far from the scene before him.  Then without warning, it happened!
Suddenly, from the bushes along the side of the road sprang two men armed with machetes.  One of them rushed at his door while the other raced to the passenger side.  In an instant, his door was yanked opened (Oh! why hadn't he had it locked as he normally did!), and the terrifying movie-like drama began to play itself out.  Thinking quickly, he grabbed his door and jerked it open as wide as it would go.  The man on his side of the car was knocked out into the way of the oncoming semi.  He slammed and locked his door and then whirled around to take in the situation on his daughter's side of things.  The second man was reaching across his daughter going for the gear shift!  Mr. Missionary rammed the man's hand to the floorboard and at the same time glanced up at the road.  The semi had past!  His foot stomped on the gas pedal, and the car roared to life.  Both men were left sprawling in the dust behind them. 


His heart pounded!  It had all happened so fast that it was over before he had really known what was happening.  He turned to his daughter.  She was okay, just shell-shocked like he was.  As his mind replayed the event that had just taken place, he realized that the situation could have gone much worse.  Why had that second man dove for the gear shift instead of grabbing his little girl?  If he had taken her, everything would have been over.  He would have had to get out and fight the two men, and they probably would have taken the car and everything in it.  But God had mercifully blinded their eyes, and had given him the wisdom to know exactly what to do.  It was a moment in time that he would never ever be able to forget. 


Fast forward several months.  The missionary and his family were on furlough just finishing up a service at one of their supporting churches.  It was obvious that this church loved their missionaries by the way the people hung around their table and spoke to them after the service.  No one seemed to be in a hurry to leave.  But later, when the church was mostly empty, the pastor came up to the missionary with quite a sober look on his face,  "Brother, there is something I gotta to tell you.  Each morning, I get here to the church early, but before I enter my office, I always take a few minutes to pray for our missionaries." 


The missionary glanced around him at the many prayer letters lining the walls.  He nodded, and the pastor continued.


"Each morning, I make my rounds.  I lay my hand on these prayer letters and pray for each missionary in turn for a few minutes before I move on to the next one.  Well, Brother, several months ago, something really strange happened.  I put my hand on your prayer letter and as I began to pray, I was overcome with an intense burden for you and your family.  I literally could not take my hand off your letter, and God would not let me move on.  Instead, my eyes filled with tears and I stood there for who knows how long laboring in prayer for you.  Brother, I'm curious.  Do you have any idea why I might have been under such a heavy burden that day?"   


Time seemed to stand still for the missionary as his mind raced back to that horrifying day three months before.  And then it was his turn to tell his side of the story.  The two men hugged one another and wept at the goodness of God.  The hearts of that missionary and that pastor bonded as the full truth hit them that they had both been truly laboring together on that fateful day on the mission field.
The missionary went on to tell that story, both sides of it, everywhere he went.  And now, more than ever before, he realized that he and his family could not make it without the prayers of their supporters back home.

Harrelson Family--1989

That missionary was my Dad, Dick Harrelson.  The mission field--Papua New Guinea.  That little girl was my sister, JoAnna.  And that pastor was Pastor Vic Wilson, a man who has faithfully pastored his church and prayed for his missionaries for many years. 


Question:  Do you pray for your missionaries?  I mean, do you REALLY pray for your missionaries?  Do you know them personally because their names are on your lips on a regular basis?  If you were asked about one of your missionaries in particular, would you know him, or would his name just vaguely ring a bell?  That thought bothers me.  No, more than that, it scares me!  I don't know how to emphasize this enough.  Your missionaries, each one of them, needs YOU.  Are you ready to bow before God at a moment's notice to spend time in prayer for one of them?  They are depending on you for more than just money to keep them on the field.  They need your prayers.  Their lives may depend on it!


Guest post written by Jessi, missionary wife in Kenya.  You can read more from her on her blog Joy Unspeakable.

When You Say, "I Am Praying For You"...

(image source)

 

 

 

I've been pondering this sentence quite a bit lately, and as I write this, I realize I've thought about this for years.  When I share a burden with a friend and they reply, "I'm praying for you."  I often think, do they really?  Are we really praying for each other, or do we simply hope things work out.   My husband often says,

 

"We often accuse others of what we are guilty of ourselves." 

 

Ouch. 

 

But I do have to wonder, if I am guilty of telling someone I am praying for them, and then don't, how often do people tell me and later forget to pray.  Telling someone you are going to do something, and don't is a lie, plain and simple.

 

Maybe it's just me, and you all are doing fine in this area.  If so, great.  But I know the Lord has been working in my heart lately to pray.  To stop and pray for people. To be more intentional (my word of the year).   Not a quick, "Dear Lord, please be with so and so, Amen."  No, not anymore.  I stop and put focused time on praying for my friends, even people I don't know if someone asks.

 

When someone shares a prayer request on facebook, I will not reply "praying for you" until I have stopped and prayed for them.  Because I know, that when I shut my computer and go on with my day that I will probably forget. 

 

This verse has been a good reminder to me:

 

"Moreover as for me, God forbid that I should sin against the Lord in ceasing to pray for you:

but I will teach you the good and the right way:"  I Samuel 12:23

 

More thoughts on prayer coming soon.

 

Do you have a prayer request that I can pray for?  Please leave a comment or email, and I promise I will pray for you.

 

Open Your Own Doors

I was one frustrated missionary! I would pray and pray and make lots of contacts. I knew people on the street and many shop keepers. I was friendly and smiling, and the people would talk to me—about the weather, my kids, and superficial things. Day after day, I went by and chatted and smiled, praying for an opportunity to share the gospel. Truly, if there was an open door, I didn’t see it. I tried to steer conversations in the right direction, but they weren’t going there.

We serve in the Basque region of Spain. It is a gorgeous part of Europe with a culture just about as old as the hills around us. The people are friendly, helpful, and kind. But they have no interest whatsoever in God. There are a few exceptions, but overall, the people would call themselves “atheists.”

I was talking to a friend in Madrid one afternoon, and she said, “They always tell you about the millions who are waiting for someone to tell them the gospel. They don’t tell you about the millions who couldn’t care less.”

How do you reach them?

As I was frustrated and praying and in constant contact with the same friends, I decided that maybe I could open a few doors for a witness myself. I only needed to look for a different kind of opportunity.

One such is Christmas. Virtually everyone here is from a Roman Catholic background. Most people know that Christmas is the celebration of the birth of Jesus—though I have asked some children, and they had no clue. Most people celebrate Christmas with huge meals on Christmas Eve and the extended family together. I decided I could give each of my friends a Christmas card with a letter in it about the warmth of Christmas, telling them why I love Christmas: the message of Christ coming to earth to save us from our sins.

I wrote the letter and got the cards all ready, and then I set out on my quest to give them to everyone I knew in town. All my friends received them gladly. I got hugs and kisses and even a couple of calendars from those who thought they needed to pay me back.

The next time I went to town, some of the people were like igloos in the Arctic. Cold. Scared to death. Others were okay with me. I continued to smile, frequent the same shops, and even the igloos melted a little. I didn’t confront or push again—until the next Christmas.

One of the places I wanted to leave my letters was a little tobacco shop on the backside of town. (Don’t get the wrong idea; it’s a government shop and also sells postage stamps.) I went by twice, and both times, the shop was full to overflowing out the door. (It sells lottery tickets, too.) So I didn’t get my letter delivered to that little store. I had wanted to make face-to-face contact.

Several weeks after the Christmas holidays, I was in the tobacco shop, and the daughter waited on me. She looked very sad, so I asked her if she was okay. She answered “no.” So I asked why, and she said, “Don’t you know?” I asked her if I had offended her in any way, and she said, “No. My brother died.” Theirs is a family business, and I knew her brother. He was a very courteous, handsome young man in his twenties. I asked her what had happened. He had been mountain climbing, had hit a patch of ice, and had fallen. A couple of weeks later, he died.

It was a gut punch. This was one of the only places where I had known the people and hadn’t gotten my letter delivered. And now, one of them had died, surely without the Lord. I told her how sorry I was. A few days later, I took New Testaments for this young woman and her mother, along with a letter containing my memories of the young man, salvation, and my sincere prayers for them. I opened my own door . . . but it was too late for one.

People we know are dying. They are going out into eternity. They might be only twenty-four, like my young friend. Or they might be eighty. We are responsible to get the gospel to them, somehow, some way. If they won’t talk to us, we must try to get them to read a tract. If they won’t listen, perhaps they will read. If they can’t read, maybe they will listen.

Here are some ideas for opening your own doors:

• Sports and exercise—coaching sports teams, basketball tournament, aerobics classes
• Offering free crafts, art, or a sewing class with devotions
• Teaching English, with a Bible lesson each time
• Giving music lessons
• Neighborhood children’s Bible clubs (with mothers invited, always with parental approval)
• Cooking/baking classes
• You take a class.
• Writing—blogging, ladies’ magazine with testimonies included, social media posts that include Scripture for your unsaved friends, cards and letters at Christmas or other holidays, an online magazine for women that contains salvation testimonies from church ladies in your country 

Surely, you’ve already thought of another one.

Of course, nothing opens doors more than friendship. Be a friend. Let friendship grow. Try to steer the conversation to spiritual things. If they won’t open up to spiritual things, they will surely read a personal letter or a tract you give to them.

Pray. Pray that God will open doors and help you think of innovative ways to reach people where you are. I know He will bless!

I know thy works: behold, I have set before thee an open door,

and no man can shut it:

for thou hast a little strength, and hast kept my word,

and hast not denied my name (Revelation 3:8).