Graduate valedictorian, go to an Ivy League school, enter a respectable profession, get rich - that’s what I decided my life’s purpose was when I was in high school. The only reason I wanted to do missionary work before college was so that I could have a stronger résumé. Good thing God can take our impure motives and bring something good out of them.
I reached for the clock before it went off at 4:30a.m. Why had I even bothered to set it? I’d hoped that sleep would find me and bring a temporary reprieve from the day I now faced. It didn’t. Things had been set in motion, and I had to respond to the day’s cruel schedule. That fateful day was in 1976. I would learn in the future, sadly much too late, that this was my only child’s life.
You're an ordinary young person. You've checked off some educational boxes and are now trying to figure out some kind of direction for your life. The idea that God might be calling you into a life of radical missions seems too far-fetched to even warrant consideration. Only special people become missionaries, right? Wrong!
Every day, I am reminded of the power of God. Experiencing God's love and grace in my life began when I was born. When I came into the world, my lungs collapsed. I was rushed down to the ICU and given oxygen through tubes in my chest. While my mother was in a hospital room, my father was in the waiting area, hoping everything would be okay. After some time the doctor came out, gave my father a hug, and told him that I didn’t make it. My lungs had stopped working, and there was no sign of life. My father then told the doctor that day, "No matter what happens, God is still good."
