
I just had one of those “gift moments.” You know, the kind of unexpected occurrence, though neither grand nor discernible to anyone else in the room, which will most likely stay planted securely in the midst of my heart for my remaining days on this planet.
First, some context.
I’m currently in the capital city of a Central Asian country, serving alongside three short-term teams engaged in outreach projects. Our time here has been rich, stretching, and deeply rewarding—at least for us, the American participants. I pray it’s been equally valuable for the locals. I have about a week left in this country—a place I’ve come to love deeply over the past ten years of visits.
Just a few days ago, I had the privilege of meeting with a remarkable local woman who leads an education-focused ministry. She’s also connected to the same global organization I served with for fifteen years while living in East Asia. One of the great honors of my life is meeting Christian leaders around the world—men and women doing beautiful, courageous work in places where faith is costly. This woman is one of them. Humble. Passionate. Visionary.
Two days ago, things took a turn for the worse. Sickness struck. I was waylaid. The kind of sickness I seem to only get when traveling in faraway lands. I’ll spare you the details, but let’s just say it came upon me quickly and violently. I have been “sweating it out” in my room at the hostel ever since.
This morning, needing fresh air and wanting to test my strength, I ventured out to a nearby café. This particular café is one of a handful of places in this city owned by Christians, therefore it’s somewhat of a “safe house” for Christians to meet up in this Muslim-majority country.
That’s when the “gift moment” arrived.
As I nursed my coffee in the corner, in walked the same woman I had met earlier in the week. I was surprised and thrilled to see her. She wasn’t alone, so I decided to remain discreet. In this part of the world, public association can carry risk, and I didn’t want to compromise anyone’s safety. I kept to myself—until she spotted me, smiled, and motioned me over.
Her eyes were bright with joy, but her voice remained low as she introduced the woman sitting with her: “This is Fan,” she whispered. “She’s from your former country, and she’s serving here through your former organization!”
I could barely conceal my exuberance. My heart leapt and I felt inexplicably warmed.
You see, during my 15 years of serving in East Asia, we dreamed of a time when not only the local church would thrive, but also send missionaries to places like Muslim lands. Now, on this nondescript July morning in a coffee shop nestled in the midst of this predominantly Muslim country, I’m sitting at a table and it has happened.
I was afforded the joy of seeing the personification of prayers we earnestly prayed for and worked toward 20 years ago.
Fan shared that she has been serving here for four years. Even more astonishing, she’s one of three teams from East Asia now working in this country. I was speechless. Grateful. Awed.
There have been very few “it has all been worth it” moments which I have had that measure up to this one I experienced today in this most unlikely of all places.
God is always at work and He is always working. Even when we don’t see it. Even if we barely have the faith to simply pray for it. He truly takes our loaves and fishes and multiplies them in unexpected ways.
God is also doing extraordinary things, through extraordinary people, in extraordinary ways, within extraordinarily difficult places and circumstances. This is the God we serve. He is looking after you and me as well.
Grateful for this “gift moment” for me today as a reminder of all these realities in this most unlikely of all places.
Jesus is living and active. He is moving. And he is building his global church.
Be encouraged.
(I have the privilege of leading the global organization, One Bridge. My travels in the article are with work for this. Please click here for more information on One Bridge.)