In less than 10 weeks, we are following Jesus to Texas. Texas! Honestly, the thought makes me chuckle. I have this vision of everybody wearing cowboy hats and spurs on their boots. We might need to trade in our Chuck Taylors! Better yet, maybe we should just put spurs on them.
In the last few weeks, as we’ve been making preparations and telling people our story, we’ve been asked quite a few questions we can’t answer.
How long will you be in Texas?
What will you do once this YWAM school is finished on May 25th?
Where will you be establishing a YWAM base?
Do you think God might have you doing something else besides pioneering a base?
Will God bring you back to this area?
Are you moving overseas?
All of these questions have the same response: “I don’t know.” Some then go on to ask if it’s hard not knowing. And honestly, yes sometimes it is, but most days it’s not. When you know God is calling you to do something, you don’t have to know all the answers. It’s enough to know, He knows.
I’m reading a book called The Insanity of God by Nik Ripken. Many of the stories in this book have grabbed hold of my heart. This story though brought tears to my eyes:
Many of the stories that I heard in Russia celebrated God’s faithfulness and provision.
One pastor was arrested and placed in prison, while his wife and children were sent to live (or die) in Siberia.
One wintry night in their remote, dilapidated wooden cabin, which now served as their home, the three children divided their family’s last crust of bread and drank the last cup of tea in their house before climbing into bed still hungry. Kneeling to say their prayers they asked, “Where are we going to get some more food, Mama? We’re hungry! Do you think Papa even knows where we live now!” Their mother assured them their heavenly Father knew where they lived. For now, He was the one who would have to provide. They prayed and asked for God’s provision.
Thirty kilometers away, in the middle of the night, God woke up the deacon of a church and instructed him, “Get out of bed. Harness your horse, hitch the horse to the sled, load up all the extra vegetables that the church has harvested, the meat, and the other food that the congregation has collected, and take it to that pastor’s family living outside the village. They are hungry!”
The deacon said, “But Lord, I can’t do that! It’s below zero outside. My horse might freeze, and I might freeze!”
The Holy Spirit told him, “You must go! That pastor’s family is in trouble!”
The man argued, “Lord, you’ve got to know that there are wolves everywhere. They could eat my horse and if they do, they’ll then eat me! I’ll never make it back.”
But the deacon said that the Holy Spirit told him, “You don’t have to come back. You just have to go.”
So he did.
When he knocked loudly on the door of that rickety cabin in the pre-dawn darkness the next morning, the banging must have terrified the mother and her children. But imagine their joy and amazement when they fearfully and hesitantly opened the cabin door to find one very small, very cold member of the Body of Christ standing on their front door step. His food-laden sleigh was behind him. He held a huge sack and announced, “Our church collected this food for you. Be fed. When this runs out. I’ll bring more.”
Long after I heard that story, I kept thinking about God’s final instruction to the deacon: “You just have to go.”
“You don’t have to come back. You just have to go.”
As it turns out, he did come back. Even so, the instruction is so clear. You just have to go. You just have to go. Even if there is no clarity about your return, you just have to go.
I so related to the deacon when I read this story. I’ve asked my fair share of questions to the Lord over the years. I’ve wanted answers to the unknowns, but the Lord usually responds with the same answer, “Trust Me, Amy!” We don’t know what’s going to happen beyond the going. We can’t answer all the questions before us. All we know is we must go. We just have to go.
Thank you to all who are praying for us. We are so grateful for the love and encouragement so many are giving us during this time. We’ve sold a lot of our possessions and raised about half of what’s needed for this initial training in Texas. We are trusting the Lord to supply the rest in His time and way.
The call to go isn’t for a select few. Before returning to heaven, Jesus looked out at those gathered on the hillside and told them ALL to go and make disciples. It is the great commission for every believer in Jesus Christ. We just have to go!
“If Jesus is not the answer to the human condition, there is no answer.” Nik Ripken