The Conversation I Dread...every single time.
It usually doesn't take long before it comes up. It is in your heart, in your mind and the one thing you really do not want to think about. You've thought about it before and often but usually not in such a personal manner. Every Believer in Jesus Christ must struggle with the thought. Everyone who takes God's word as truth must come to terms with the concept. The relationships are there...the grief as well as the heartbreak and sorrow. I dread it, it pierces my heart as I know it does His and it always, always, comes around.
The first time I recall personally having this conversation was in 2009 in East Asia. I had heard missionaries speak of similar conversations before but I'd never experienced what it felt like. I think I may have even wrote about it on this blog way back then. The reality, sorrow and feelings left a mark on me I don't think I will ever forget. The "whys" I think were the worst part, but the loss of hope was almost just as bad.
And then it happened here. Different culture, different time...the conversation of heartbreak.
You see the majority of my family have all been Believers. I feel confident that grandparents and those who have gone on before me are safe in the arms of Jesus our Savior. It isn't the same for most of the world. This past week Bryan and I went to an "American" restaurant here in our city and indulged in a way overpriced burger and fries. (Somethings you pay for just to feel like home). The food was delicious and the environment made me feel like I was back in the states for just a brief moment. We met the cook, a local man as well as a sweet woman who is the owner's mother. What brief language I know was exchanged as well as numbers so that we could text later. She even took my picture to put in her phone with my contact information. Thus began my modeling career. Kidding.
But what was so incredibly sad was when she turned to show me a picture on her phone of man appearing to be about her age. I could tell she was incredibly proud of her husband, and then she proceeded to jester upward communicating death and heaven. I do not know this lady nor did I know her husband, but the reality is that he is not in heaven. Living in a country where the lostness is 99% plus, the likelihood of him having even heard the Gospel is very small. I do not know all things and please hear my heart, this is not judgment but simply logic and reality. I was careful not to communicate to her an agreement or any type of emotion, just a simple nod and change of subject.
So on Friday, after our language lesson was finished we closed with prayer with our teacher. We are so, so blessed to be able to have a wonderful teacher who is also a firm Believer. And to be honest, I'm not quite sure how these conversation come about... Sometimes it is speaking about family and learning new vocabulary of mother, father, grandmother and so on. Other times it comes about when talking about Scripture or our faith. However, the conversation I always dread was here and I knew it. And as she began to tell me about her father, I lost what control I had over the tears building in my eyes and simply listened. She knows the reality of her father's eternity, she grieves for the loss and yet resilient and strong she faithfully trusts her Savior. It is the only way she knows and the only hope she has for the future. The weight upon her was evident and heavy as she explained about her mother who is still living and how it prods her on to share the Gospel.
I couldn't help but think about my own father. Alive and well and I know his eternity is secure but what if I didn't? Then I began to think about relatives, friends, the people all around me. Their lives are not secure. My 90 year old neighbor...will I learn language in enough time to share? Will she accept the Gospel or turn away? I pray, oh how I pray for this city, for specific people and for God to honor His promise of "being long-suffering not willing that any should perish."
It is the conversation I dread, it is the whys and the frustrations... It is the question of why didn't the generations before come and share and love. And why aren't the generations NOW coming and sharing about Christ both here and at home...? I know I can not change the past, I know I can not control the future. The knowledge of life lost for eternity spurs me on each and everyday. It has to, He has to be worth it. May "it" give us all the passion and urgency to be bold with the Gospel. In faith it makes challenges me to be obedient to His command.
I'd heard this quote before but I'll leave it here below. Penn Jillette a well known magician and atheist posted this several years ago and I believe he makes a solid point. I pray in the future that I may never have to have another conversation of dread.
Beautiful Feet - Whitney
The first time I recall personally having this conversation was in 2009 in East Asia. I had heard missionaries speak of similar conversations before but I'd never experienced what it felt like. I think I may have even wrote about it on this blog way back then. The reality, sorrow and feelings left a mark on me I don't think I will ever forget. The "whys" I think were the worst part, but the loss of hope was almost just as bad.
And then it happened here. Different culture, different time...the conversation of heartbreak.
You see the majority of my family have all been Believers. I feel confident that grandparents and those who have gone on before me are safe in the arms of Jesus our Savior. It isn't the same for most of the world. This past week Bryan and I went to an "American" restaurant here in our city and indulged in a way overpriced burger and fries. (Somethings you pay for just to feel like home). The food was delicious and the environment made me feel like I was back in the states for just a brief moment. We met the cook, a local man as well as a sweet woman who is the owner's mother. What brief language I know was exchanged as well as numbers so that we could text later. She even took my picture to put in her phone with my contact information. Thus began my modeling career. Kidding.
So on Friday, after our language lesson was finished we closed with prayer with our teacher. We are so, so blessed to be able to have a wonderful teacher who is also a firm Believer. And to be honest, I'm not quite sure how these conversation come about... Sometimes it is speaking about family and learning new vocabulary of mother, father, grandmother and so on. Other times it comes about when talking about Scripture or our faith. However, the conversation I always dread was here and I knew it. And as she began to tell me about her father, I lost what control I had over the tears building in my eyes and simply listened. She knows the reality of her father's eternity, she grieves for the loss and yet resilient and strong she faithfully trusts her Savior. It is the only way she knows and the only hope she has for the future. The weight upon her was evident and heavy as she explained about her mother who is still living and how it prods her on to share the Gospel.
It is the conversation I dread, it is the whys and the frustrations... It is the question of why didn't the generations before come and share and love. And why aren't the generations NOW coming and sharing about Christ both here and at home...? I know I can not change the past, I know I can not control the future. The knowledge of life lost for eternity spurs me on each and everyday. It has to, He has to be worth it. May "it" give us all the passion and urgency to be bold with the Gospel. In faith it makes challenges me to be obedient to His command.
I'd heard this quote before but I'll leave it here below. Penn Jillette a well known magician and atheist posted this several years ago and I believe he makes a solid point. I pray in the future that I may never have to have another conversation of dread.
“I’ve always said that I don’t respect people who don’t proselytize. I don’t respect that at all. If you believe that there’s a heaven and a hell, and people could be going to hell or not getting eternal life, and you think that it’s not really worth telling them this because it would make it socially awkward—and atheists who think people shouldn’t proselytize and who say just leave me along and keep your religion to yourself—how much do you have to hate somebody to not proselytize? How much do you have to hate somebody to believe everlasting life is possible and not tell them that?
“I mean, if I believed, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that a truck was coming at you, and you didn’t believe that truck was bearing down on you, there is a certain point where I tackle you. And this is more important than that.”
Beautiful Feet - Whitney
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