Why am I here, not there?

Today I’ve been wrestling with wondering why God has called me here, to the U.S. After all, my heart was to go, but He asked me to stay. Often, my work here feels trivial in comparison to my friends’ ministry letters I read from their overseas mission fields.

My world here is so normal. I didn’t have to learn another language, I’m not in an unknown country, I don’t have to get my water from a well, I’m not surrounded by people dying of diseases, most people I minister to have more than they need and then some. People here don’t seem as desperate as I’d imagine those do who live in more drastic environments. So, why am I here? People don’t seem to need God. They want to be their own gods. They’re satisfied enough with what this world has to offer (at least momentarily but then it’s off to the next immediate fix). It seems impossible. Couldn’t I just leave? Couldn’t I just go somewhere where people don’t have as much opportunity, where people are actually searching for something… anything… to save them from their suffering. In my current state of mind, that seems tempting, like it’d be the easy way out. I don’t mean to down play the seriousness of the suffering across the world. I know it’s more painful and burdened than anything I could understand from my comfortable life here.

As these thoughts and questions flood my mind and as I bring them to the Lord, I’m reminded of a day a few years ago (2010, maybe?). I was walking across campus and stopped to listen to a street preacher in the free speech area. There was a large crowd gathered around him, mocking him and shouting insults at him. My sheltered heart was overwhelmed. My blind heart could now see. Up until this point, my heart was cold towards Americans– “Everyone here has had or does have an opportunity to hear about God, yet no one cares.” I stood there surrounded by students who just had no clue. They didn’t have the opportunity of growing up in a Christian home as I did, or if they did, something happened along the way to skew their perception of who God is. My once cold heart was now burdened for these people, and tears streamed down my face as I understood that people here need Jesus just as much as people overseas. Even then, I still wanted to go overseas. Surely there’re people who wouldn’t in a million years ever want to travel to a tribal, unreached, inaccessible land, even if it were to tell people about Jesus. “Pick me, Jesus! I want to do that!” Little did I know that two years later, God would be picking me, not to go, but to stay. Why does He call people who want to go to stay? And, why does He call people who want to stay to go? Perhaps to stretch us, to grow our trust in Him, to test our obedience, our devotion to Him. *Sigh* I’m not seeking a pity party or fishing for compliments, nor am I trying to prove a case for whether local or foreign missions is most needed. I’m simply sharing my raw, honest thoughts and heart. The point here is they’re both as greatly important. And, you know what, even if your vocation isn’t ministry, as a Christian, you are a missionary right where God has you, and that’s just as important too. Furthermore, my value, my worth, my importance isn’t found in what I do (or where I do it). It’s found in my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, who calls me His daughter, who has adopted me into His family, and who has made me in His image.

*Disclaimer: I feel 100% called to this city and these people, and I love them with my whole heart.*