Take Root and Write

Women With a Mission

Most women are results-oriented.  They have a purpose and they push themselves to fulfill that purpose, whether it be child-rearing, homemaking, career-building, or ministry.  The fact is that women are born with a natural drive for missions.

Of course, not every woman will board a big plane and jet off to some remote island to live among the aborigines to preach the Gospel.  But every woman whose heart has been transformed by the saving grace of Jesus Christ will, in fact, impact the lives of many through her own life.  Let me give you some “for instances”.

Susan is a mother in her late 30’s.  She’s a full-time single mom, recently graduated from nursing school, working for the state to fulfill her tenure before venturing into the nursing career she’s always dreamed of.  She’s compassionate beyond description when loving the elderly, helping them through end-of-life issues, and being the arms and heart of Jesus to them in their final days.  Then, she takes the reins of funeral dinners and ministering to the bereaved family.  Susan is a missionary by every definition of the word.

Rachel is a pastor’s wife in her late 40’s.  She has Multiple Sclerosis yet worked for several years as an international representative for a large well-known corporation until her body finally gave out.  She manages the church calendar, heads up the childrens ministry, is Sunday School Superintendent, leads worship, organizes dinners and events, and accompanies her husband on visitations and hospital calls.  She leads a women’s Bible Study, answers the phone to answer every question people can think of, and does it all with a smile and a hug.  Rachel is a missionary by every definition of the word.

Death Was Inevitable

Pastor Rakesh was missing—nowhere to be found in his small tribal village in the forest area of southern India. After pastoring for nearly seven years, no one would have thought his life would still be in danger.  The past was long forgotten and the family was busy in ministry. But they were wrong. They may have forgotten and moved on, but the terrorist group he once led didn’t.

In his youth, Pastor Rakesh was heavily involved in a communistic anti-government terrorist group; these  guerrillas currently control an estimated one-fifth of India’s forest regions. The goal of this growing and very dangerous group is to destabilize India and Sub-Continent with a well coordinated strategy with the help of international revolutionaries and covert support from Pakistan and China. This terror regime is being provided with sophisticated weaponry and the know-how for making and using improvised explosive devices—seized weapons and ammunition bear witness to this evidence.

One might say that Pastor Rakesh is a modern-day Paul … the very people he once persecuted are the ones he now loves and ministers to in the power of the Holy Spirit. His conversion was as remarkable as any other as he battled the war within to denounce his terroristic idealism and apprehend the cross of Christ.

But, now his family was grieved.  Counting the days since his disappearance it seemed obvious he would never return. His widow did her best to continue to feed the family but in a poor forest village, this would prove nearly impossible. Their congregation was poor and had no money to assist. The small community of believers was struggling to remain strong in faith considering the circumstances.

After much prayer, a new pastor was sent to the forest village to step into the position of Pastor Rakesh who was now presumed dead. A small offering of support was sent to the widow to sustain her until other arrangements could be made to support her and the children.

August … September … October … November … December … January.  Each month came without word.  Life continued to go on though the prayers for a miracle never ceased in the remote chance their beloved pastor was still alive.

The Name Above All Names

 

This past Thursday afternoon I had the privilege to talk to Pastor in India. It was his 39th birthday and he was excited to see what this next year would hold in store for him and the ministry. Of course, we’re excited as well...watching God move never grows old.

During the course of our conversation, we were talking about our visit to India this coming March. He was very apologetic because we would not be able to preach at large gatherings or conferences. The political and religious zealots have made it very dangerous for Christians to gather in large groups; he was quite concerned for the safety of our team should we be found preaching the Gospel to large numbers of people.

As I began to think about this, I see it as a blessing. We now have an opportunity to focus on small group evangelism as we visit remote tribal villages.  Pastor said he would make a schedule for us to once again visit villages where the Gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ had never been preached, where we can have an eternal impact on men, women, and children who have never heard the name of Jesus. What a challenge…what an honor!

Sometimes less is more.  Sometimes fewer people and smaller gatherings give the greater possibility of more effectiveness in evangelism. After all, that’s what it’s all about—responding to the Great Commission by preaching the Gospel to all nations. In March, however, for us the “all nations” will become India’s small tribal villages.

Preach Always: Use Words Only When Necessary

As I sit here tonight at my desk, I’m looking at the globe tilted on its axis and amazingly full of continents, countries, regions, and major cities.  Places I’ve never heard of.  Amazingly, the world is HUGE! 

As I was looking at the globe, I began to think about how much work is still to be done to fulfill the Great Commission. 

How much have you thought about the Great Commission?  Can you say it from memory?  Say it with me:

“Go ye into all the world and
preach the Gospel to all creatures”
(Mark 16:15 KJV).

Jesus left us with these words as a reminder of why He came, why He called us, and why He empowered us with the Holy Spirit.  His work on earth—His sinless life, atoning sacrifice, and victorious resurrection—wasn’t about anything other than building His Kingdom through His church.  Everything else we may think is important takes a back seat to the Great Commission.  If we aren’t doing something to fulfill this commandment, we are missing the heart of God.

Fulfilling the Great Commission doesn’t necessarily mean you have to get on a plane and travel half-way around the world to minister to people who don’t speak your language.  You can fulfill the Great Commission in your own home, in your neighborhood or community, in your state, your country.  Everywhere we go, every interaction we have with others, is an opportunity to fulfill the Great Commission.  Think about it …

Fellowship of Sufferings

“That I may know him, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of his sufferings, being made conformable unto his death; if by any means I might attain unto the resurrection of the dead.” (Philippians 3:10-11)

This scripture has been made so huge to me of late.  “…the fellowship of his sufferings” is a phrase that not only caught my eye, but has pierced my heart.  I began to consider our partners in India and how they live—how they minister even when it means they must “fellowship of his sufferings”. 

Heart of God International Ministries has thirty pastors in India who are working diligently, day after day, in their tribal villages and those nearby to bring the Gospel to the people and, step by step, lead them to Christ.  A recent report told of an outreach to a remote village that had been unevangelized.  (We support these monthly outreaches which are designed win souls at any cost!)  No missionary or preacher had ever entered this village with the life-changing, soul-cleansing, power-imparting message of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  

This particular outreach, a large group of men (young and old) loaded a panel truck and drove as  far as they could through driving rain.  When truck got stuck in the mud and it became obvious they could go no further, they emptied the truck and carried sound equipment, chairs, tracts, lights, and food on foot.  But, here, read for yourself the report that was sent to us (I edited the language to make it easier to read):

Sharing the Burden

Because of my schedule these past few weeks, I've asked my ministry partner, Jeanice McDade, to write an article for you.  I was so thrilled when she sent me her article.  Please read with an open heart and a mind to pray and respond to the call of God in whatever way He moves on you heart.  ~Jan

“Nevertheless you have done well that you shared in my distress” Phil 4:14

Recently there has been great persecution against Christians in the state of Orissa in India.

Within the last couple of days, there has been a gunman attack Mumbai, India.  During this attack, several foreign hostages were taken by the gunmen.  At the time of this writing, there is a siege of a Jewish Center there.  The death toll is up to 143, with 288 injuries.  The government of India is calling this a terrorist attack and admits that foreigners have been targeted. 

It used to be that tourists were welcomed and protected, as they were good for the Indian economy.  One of the things that set the Indian country apart from other countries that I have visited is their hospitality.  I have never met a more gracious people and was warmly welcomed everywhere I went.   I still think that the country is one of the warmest places I have been, but one must be cautious when traveling anywhere.  The danger doesn’t involve (just) certain countries.  The danger is more about the day we live in than it is about a geographic area.

While we are still doing ministry in the state of Andhra Pradesh, there are places within the country of India where it is not wise to publically proclaim the name of Jesus Christ.  Our Pastors are still preaching publically, building up new congregations of believers, conducting the School of Ministry, and baptizing new believers among other things. 

Six Blocks to Eternity

Karen got off the bus, pressed through the crowd, and sprinted down the cluttered sidewalk.  She was late for her first day on the job.  The bus had been delayed because a fender-bender backed up traffic for miles during the rush hour.

Six city blocks turned into an eternity as she literally counted her steps.   Her heart was racing, her adrenaline pumping; she found it hard to catch her breath.  She had no time to waste; it was important to make a good impression.

Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong…

The bells in the old church steeple on the square chimed loud and clear—an ominous reminder she was still countless steps away from the door to the office.  Her mind raced … how will I ever pull this off?

Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere a man appeared.  She was startled as he stepped directly into her path as if he had targeted her from afar off.  Without hesitation, she tried to sidestep him but he jolted in the same direction to block her from her mission.

“Please, sir, I’m in a hurry!”

Instead of politely stepping aside, he pressed in closer holing his hat in front of her face begging for money.

“Can you spare a coin or two?”

Karen quickly pushed the man’s hand to the side and tried to escape this unseemly public abduction.

“Please, ma’am, I am hungry! Can you spare a coin or two?”

Rather than fighting and causing a scene, she opened her purse and reached for a few coins.  His eyes followed her hands inside as she fumbled.  Uncomfortable with the situation, she was careful not to remove her coin purse, she grabbed a few quarters.  Before she could lift her hand out of her purse, the old man grabbed her arm.

“There!  That’s what I want!”  He reached down and pulled her purse-sized Bible out.  “Tell me!  I need to know!”

Oh, That You Would Bless Me!

We find comfort in the fact that our homes are secure, the bills are paid, and our children are tucked safely in bed at night.  As mothers, it’s easy to find deep satisfaction in things we take for granted when we feel the snuggles of our little ones, hear the dog barking in the yard, and smell the aroma of dinner on the stove.  The last thing we want to think about is an abandoned child living on the streets with no one to hold them or love them, people in remote areas of the world who have never heard the name of Jesus, or people dying and entering eternity without any assurance of salvation.  And, even if we think about it, we find it difficult to believe there are people who have not at least once heard the Gospel message.

Admittedly, there was a time when I couldn’t imagine there were unreached tribal villages with people who literally never heard the name of Jesus or the precious plan of salvation through His shed blood. After all, with all the missionaries in the world going into Africa and India and South America, surely they’ve met up with every clan or tribe.  That’s what I thought until the Lord opened my eyes.  How naïve I was!

A few years back, Bruce Wilkinson wrote The Prayer of Jabez.  Churches everywhere were preaching it, Christians were praying Jabez’ prayer every day.  Take a minute and look at this simple prayer:

"Oh, that you would bless me and enlarge my territory! Let your hand be with me, and keep me from harm so that I will be free from pain."  (1 Chronicles 4:10)

The first sentence is one that challenged me personally, not that I wanted God to make me rich or give me more property or wealth, but that He would enlarge my territory—my sphere of influence.  That’s where I choose to find my blessing. Oh, that you would bless me and enlarge my territory!  Herein is the essence of missions…enlarging our territory.

Listen Closely, Hear My Heart

Listen closely, hear my heart.  I’ve seen it with my eyes.  Lines of people standing in the hot sun for hours just waiting to see a doctor.  Mothers with malnourished babies.  Young girls with swollen pregnant bellies—girls much too young to be bearing children.  Old men bent over unable to look anyone straight in the eye.  Aged women with tumors or oozing sores that had festered for years.  Babies obviously feverish with malaria.  Little children with faces smeared from runny noses.  Hungry.  Unfed.  Uncared for.  Society’s outcasts.  Hundreds waiting to see a doctor for the first time in their lives. 

Listen closely, hear my heart.  I’ve seen it with my eyes.  The dilapidated shack became the clinic where five doctors readied themselves to see patients.  No examination table.  No instruments but stethoscopes, blood pressure cuffs, and tongue depressors.  No bright lights.  No sterile surroundings.  No soft music.  No chairs in a waiting room.  No nurses to weigh the patients or take their vitals.

Listen closely, hear my heart.  I’ve seen it with my eyes.  The missionary team members held the children, played with them to try to calm their fears.  They embraced the mothers and old women to show God’s love.  More often than not, the message of the Gospel was communicated without a word—it was easily seen in the essence of the character of God…love knew no bounds.  The people walked away knowing they had been embraced by the love of God.  Mission accomplished.

Listen closely, hear my heart.  I’ve seen it with my eyes.  Everyone was given anti-malarial medicine.  Many were given antibiotics and sent away with a small amount with instructions to take until they were gone.  Many were given vitamins; some were given a pain reliever.  A few were transported to a hospital with a statement from the doctor that they were to receive treatment even though they had no money.

Listen closely, hear my heart.  I’ve seen it with my eyes.  Early morning until the sun went down the line never seemed to shrink.  Still they came until there was no medicine left and the doctors had no means to treat the sick or dying.  The doors were closed.  The Free Medical Clinic sponsored by Heart of God International Ministries was done … at least in that village.  Tomorrow would be another day, another village, another crowd of people who were desperate for help.  Tomorrow the doctors would rise early with a fresh supply of medicines to another remote village.  Upon their arrival they would find a crowd bigger than the day before.  Another exhausting day awaited them.  But they volunteered their services, made the commitment, and would not go back on their word.

Famous Last Words

It was 5:30 am when the phone rang.

“Janet, it's your Aunt Lu.  I just got a call from the nursing home.  Your dad isn’t doing well; I think you better come.”

Because I lived two hours away; Aunt Lu lived just minutes from the nursing home and was the close, immediate contact if anything should happen.  Hurriedly, I got the house in order, cleared my schedule for the day, and left.  I was on the road in less than an hour.

For the next two hours, I fought traffic and tears … I’m still not sure which made the drive harder, the traffic or the tears.  Once I got on the freeway, though, I was free to contemplate everything.  I had time; Dad was simply sick.  I had just seen him about ten days earlier and he was weak and feeble, but he knew me and we talked about Mom.  It was a good visit.

When I arrived at Aunt Lu’s she didn’t seem too worried nor did she feel the need to rush.  She was hungry and asked me to take her to get something to eat.  I hesitated and felt especially anxious, but I couldn’t tell her no.  We ate a light brunch and headed to the nursing home.

After parking the car and we walked in.  The elevator seemed to take forever.  Five …. Four …. Three …. Two …. Two …. Two …. Two …. Two …. Two …. One.

Finally, the doors opened.  We entered the elevator and got off on Dad’s floor.  The doors opened in front of the nurse’s station.

One look and I knew something was wrong.  The nurses looked up at me.  It seemed like an eternity until finally, one of them spoke.  “I’m so sorry.  He just passed about three minutes ago.  Please wait for a minute until we get him ready before you go in there.”

Three minutes!  I missed being with my Dad by three minutes.  I missed saying goodbye.  I missed holding him and letting him know I loved him.  I missed hearing his last words. 

I was devastated. 

I missed hearing the words riding on the wings of my Dad’s last breath.  I missed hearing the last thing on his mind…the most important thing he had to say to me.  I desperately wanted to know what piece of wisdom he would impart, what legacy he wanted me to pass on to his grandchildren and great-grandchildren.  I wanted to hear the words that exude from a heart I loved and cherished.

Bradley's Third Commandment

“Who can tell me what the Third Commandment says?”

Mrs. Applegate made it a part of each morning’s routine to drill her first grade class at Heritage Christian School on the Ten Commands, the Lord’s Prayer, and the Pledge of Allegiance.  This morning was no different … at least so far.

Nearly every child eagerly raised their hand wanting to be called upon while their young, fun-loving teacher perused her class looking for the student she knew would have the answer.  Her eyes met little six-year-old Bradley’s eyes wild with expectancy, she called on him. 

“Bradley, do you know the Third Commandment?”

Bradley promptly stood up beside his desk.  “The Third Commandment says, ‘You shall not miss news about the name of the lawyer God, for the lawyer God will not hold anyone guiltless who misses news about his name.’”  With a huge smile and an overpowering sense of pride, Bradley suddenly raised his hand while giggling and saluted Mrs. Applegate. 

The students roared with delight.  Each child knew Bradley could be counted on to put on a show. It took Mrs. Applegate a moment to calm everyone back down.

“Well, Bradley, you’re close.  The Third Commandment actually says, ‘You shall not misuse the name of the Lord your God, for the Lord will not hold anyone guiltless who misuses His name.’”

As if perfectly scripted, Bradley responded:  “That’s what I said!  Good job, Mrs. Applegate!”

“Well, your parents and grandparents probably learned the verse a little differently.  It says, ‘Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord your God in vain, for the Lord will not hold him guiltless who takes His name in vain.’  So, Bradley, can you tell me what it means to take the Lord’s name in vain and why we shouldn’t do it?”

While the class suddenly hushed to hear what their comedic classmate would respond, Bradley thought for a brief moment how to keep everyone amused.

“I take the Lord’s name wherever I go, but I carry it in my heart, not in my veins because God said not to take His name in our veins—that would be misusing it!”

The Rest of the Story

If you had an opportunity to read my introduction titled "Heavenly Pedicure," you might have noticed there was much of the story left out.   Allow me to start from the beginning and give you The Rest of the Story.

If you would have told me a few years ago that my feet were beautiful, I would have laughed at you and told you how crazy you were.  There's nothing pretty about my feet!  I have calluses, crooked toes, thick toenails, and a strange bump on my left foot.  Far from pretty.

But, something happened ... my introduction to "Beautiful Feet" came when I least expected it.  While missionary stuff wasn't foreign to me (I had a cousin who served as a missionary to the Navajo Indians most of her adult life), I just wasn't really interested in flying all over the world, eating who knows what, and spending my days walking in a land where I knew no one.  I'm a homebody and enjoy the creature comforts that come with it.  Don't get me wrong ... we don't live lavishly, but I love my home in the country where it's peaceful and basically quiet.

So, back to my feet--my BEAUTIFUL feet!

My passion for God has continued to grow throughout my life.  I knew early on that I was called to be a servant, filling the gaps left by those who felt they couldn't respond to whatever God called them to do.  It didn't matter what it was - teaching little children in Sunday School, cleaning the church kitchen, vacuuming the sanctuary, playing the piano, leading worship, typing the bulletin, greeting visitors, singing in the choir.  Yep!  I'm a servant and love every minute of it.  But as a "servant" I never saw myself as a missionary.  In my warped thinking, they were two totally different callings.

Then, the email:  "Jan, I have an invitation to go to Kenya in August and I would like to take you with me. Will you go?" 

Gulp!

Heavenly Pedicure

If you would have told me a few years back that my feet were beautiful, I would have laughed at you and told you that you were nuts.  There's NOTHING pretty about my feet!  I have calluses, crooked toes, thick toenails, and a strange bump on my left foot.  Far from pretty!  I had no way of knowing, but my heavenly pedicure was sovereignly scheduled at a time I least expected.

Beginning September 5th, I'll be sharing about this topic that has become one of my greatest passions.  I hope through these articles that missions will also become one of your passions.  Join me along with all those whose hearts are burdened for the world.  There's so much we can talk about, so many adventures we can go on together, and such a GREAT God whose glory is seen throughout the earth.

Please stop by and get involved in the discussions on the group page for "Beautiful Feet" here.  I look forward to seeing you there!

Intro: Beautiful Feet

To God, there’s nothing more beautiful than feet who carry the Good News of Salvation in Jesus Christ to the nations.  Whether our “nation” is across the street or across the ocean, when we respond to God’s call, He sees “Beautiful Feet” according to Isaiah 52:7.  Discover the many aspects of missions as we discuss the “Three G’s of Glocal Missions” … GOING ~ GIVING ~ GUARDING. 

By, Jan Ross
Column Posted Bi-monthly on the 2nd and 4th Friday / Also a Group in CWTR HERE