A Calling to Serve

     Just over 2 weeks ago I climbed into a Uhaul truck and left a place if you had told me I would have ever lived, I would have told you something was majorly wrong with you. I’m rarely frightened by adventure and this was no different. This adventure took me to rural southeastern Montana to teach in a one-room schoolhouse and live, quite literally, in the middle of nowhere. But in that nowhere I learned a lot. In that nowhere, I found somewhere and something. That nowhere will forever be a huge part of my life story, but more than that place, the people in that place are what shaped my time there most dramatically.

     When making friends in the Miles City area I often got the question, when are you not in a Bible study? I immersed myself in every Bible study opportunity I found when I first arrived. Wednesday night, Thursday night, Friday morning, Friday night, Sunday morning, and Sunday night, all were filled with immersing myself in the gospel with different groups of people. Each of these groups served as great friendship and fellowship during my time in Montana. When I decided to follow the lead that I felt God had placed on my life to yet again, try something new, go some place different I prayed a lot about the pace of life. I like to be doing something and going somewhere all the time. I knew that this place might provide for a different experience but also a challenging situation for me. My prayers focused on asking God to not allow the slower pace of life to not drive me crazy, but instead, to provide uninterrupted time to draw closer to Him. I had no clue how He would provide this in such a big way.

     Through all of those Bible studies I mentioned above I met many people, seeking Christ wholeheartedly. The diversity in the people I spent time in fellowship with was pretty extreme, starting with a ranching family that allowed me to come watch TV with them almost nightly (especially during my first few months there). Another family that spent time as missionaries in Afghanistan before calling Montana home. A family with four children that they homeschooled, who seemed to teach me a farming lesson every Friday night at Bible study. (I learned a lot!) A family that opened up their home and their hearts to me, not just every Thursday night, but nearly every weekend and several nights in between. Along with a host of friends who frequented the Chinese restaurant with me or took me to see interesting places throughout southern Montana.

     Over the past few weeks, and after a year of diving into the gospel, I have become more in love with my Savior. Through that love my desire to serve Him grows. I know that God has a calling on my life, although daily I struggle to know exactly what that is or what that looks like. I try diligently to follow his will and not be fearful of the future but as a human I have to consistently remind myself that He is in control and He will handle all of the itty bitty details.

     I write this to say….I am by no means a perfect human, just ask my mom. I fail daily, yet He still offers me grace. One of my biggest struggles is extending grace to my own family. However, if I desire to serve Him more, I must daily surrounded these situations and circumstances to Him, in humble obedience and desire to be more Christlike daily. 

     I’ve found in the past days and weeks that God is focusing my thoughts on service. He is calling me to serve Him. I keep thinking way to “out of control” big for the moment (my typical line of thinking) and I find God shrinking me back and asking me to take baby steps. For example, in the past few weeks/days I feel as though everywhere I’ve walked there has been trash at my feet. With every piece of trash I feel the spirit nudging me, saying, this is one itty bitty way you can have a servants heart. If you know me, you know this is a BIG deal. I am not a fan of germs, so the fact that God is asking me to pick up trash, is not my favorite thing. However, if this is one way I can show a servants heart then bring me a garbage bag.

Just today, I knew God was nudging me in another situation. A peppy blonde lady was the cashier in my line at Wal-Mart. She said the normal, “How are you today?” But, that was not the end of the conversation. We began talking and I mentioned that I had just moved to the area and was there anything fun around that she would recommend doing? Her immediate response was, I’m not sure, and then she fumbled around a little and said there are some things in a specific area that you would probably enjoy. I knew where her thoughts were going, young person, single, party, bar hopping, etc. After a momentary pause I knew God was directing me to speak up about my faith and how those were not the types of activities I was most interested in. So, I simply said, do you go to church in the area? Her eyes lit up and within 2 minutes, I not only had an invite to church but an introduction to her and an invitation to join her and her family at a local church. God. Is. Good.

Moving to a new city is not an easy task, from the physical challenges of packing up everything you own and traveling over 2,000 miles to simply making new friends and finding a church home. However, in humble adoration of all that God has allowed me to see and experience along my journey, I will embrace the journey and seek out God’s will for my time here.

Even as I sit writing this at a Barnes and Noble, there are two young girls sitting at the table in front me. I found myself stopping to pray several times, as I have no idea what their topic of conversation is but I hear words and language that is shattering. God, grip them with your grace.