What if I said "Yes"?

 A deep maroon carpet with golden designs covers the floor of the mostly empty room. Large, embroidered pillows line the wall set on a matching foam cushion on the ground. Curtains drape across the large, barred windows peaking out from the cement fortress. Lingering scents of cologne and spices float through the air as the AC endlessly drones on. A girl of about 13 yrs old sits curled up on the cushions - her hair pulled back behind a bandanna and her legs neatly folded under a brightly colored skirt. She's deep into a book - unaware of the world around her. 

If you took a step outside of the house and the four walls of the courtyard, you would see that she is not like the others around. She doesn't really fit in and yet this has always been home. Her temporary home is in a land that does not recognize her King and so she strives to live a life that demonstrates a kingdom different from that around her. 

If you look closely with me at my younger self, you'll see the title of the book reads: "From Jerusalem to Irian Jaya." This book is one of many books I read for school that year chronicling the history of the church from its birth to modern day. I distinctly remember sitting down with my family to watch a movie about Martin Luther and witnessing a scene of someone burned at the stake. This scarred me so badly, I boycotted all movies for over a year (not that we watched a lot of movies - but still it was typically a treat). The question that jumped out at me from the screen and from every page of the books I read seared my heart - if this is what it meant to be a Christian, do I have what it takes? 

In the months that followed I continued to read about all types of heinous acts towards Christians - imprisonment, torture, death of loved ones, martyrdom and so much more - meant to silence the Church. I seriously began to question my own faith as a believer. I started to think of all the ways I needed to prepare myself for every situation I might face. I would pray asking God to give me boldness, but felt no difference. 

Finally, one day as I sat reading yet another story of about a hero in faith standing for the truth, it hit me: I was asking for grace for a future circumstance, yet forgetting to receive His grace for today. I was so focused on how I would answer a question in a life or death situation that I was forgetting about how to answer my next door neighbor who was interested in the Truth. I realized that these saints and martyrs and heroes in the faith weren't mentally preparing themselves for this monumental sacrifice in their life. The only thing that differentiated them was their continual yes - no matter the cost.

They believed that every word they spoke, every deed done, every demonstration of power - was a seed sown, a life impacted to the glory of God. They realized that their ultimate reward is from the King - the same King I serve. They understood that even if they were beaten, bruised, crushed or completely destroyed for His sake - that offering would yield a bountiful harvest in the kingdom. 

Now over ten years later - I am in a different home among different people. I still don't really fit in. I would argue this neighborhood is more dangerous than my previous home. Many people here claim to believe in my King but most have never met Him. They seek a Savior through drugs and alcohol. They're caught in a system of poverty and injustice. 

The situations these people face are dark and unpredictable. Many are living in condemned or abandoned homes, unemployed and trying to fend for their families. Others are a little better off but their properties are adjacent to trash filled lots and blight infested homes. They're constantly battling for hope - just trying to survive. Crime and violence in the last year has spiked as the pandemic threw individuals further into depression and broken family situations exploded. I've witnessed the murder of a 40-yr old man by a teenager. I've heard gunshots from my bedroom window. I've been offered drugs because I look like the stereotypical white female coming to this neighborhood for one of two reasons - to buy drugs or sell herself in order to get money to buy drugs. I've seen women fighting on the streets and pulling out a gun on each other just to make a point. 

Yet still the question remains - will I say yes today? I hear the voice of my King whispering - "Will you tell them that I love them - not the things they do, but who they are? Will you tell them that their Father knows them and sees them and they are never alone? Will you tell them that I love them?" And as I hear His voice, I am reminded that when I want to run to safety His promise still remains - perfect LOVE casts out fear. 

Will I look at the drug dealer in front of me and introduce them to my King? Will I agree to show His love at any cost - at the risk of my own social status, losing money, being misunderstood or even my life? Am I willing to plant the seed of Love expecting it to grow in the heart of the drug user on the sidewalk? Slowly, but surely, I'm beginning to understand that the boldness I've prayed for isn't so much a crazy outward expression as it is a deep, unshakeable faith from within me that no matter what anyone says or does to me - I am loved by my Father and He is my delight.