A big part of me didn’t want to write about my journey to the island of Lesvos or about our work with refugees at Camp Moria, because thinking about it makes my heart ache and tears well up in my eyes. Not many people think a lot can happen in the span of seven days or even within eight hours on a shift, but God changed my life and my heart in exactly that time. While our team was in the refugee camp, we were able help house people, serve food three times a day, distribute clothing and blankets to new arrivals, and clean out tents for new people to move into them.

When most people think of Greece, they think of beautiful hills and mountains, clear water, and amazing food and culture. But when I think of Greece, all I see is the life-changing place of Camp Moria and the people in it. I see the Afghan children running up to grab my legs to get a hug with huge smiles as they say hello to me for quite possibly the 15th time that day. I see the women shedding their head wraps so that I can brush and braid their beautiful long hair on Women’s Day. I see them gathering in the middle of the room to dance and sing to their heart’s content. I see men with the biggest smiles on their faces and hear them yell, “Halle, my friend, how are you today?” I see and hear people who are living in one of the saddest situations smile and laugh more than anyone I’ve ever met.

They risked everything they had to leave their home or family to travel in a boat in the freezing cold. Some didn’t make it because of the coast guard, or in some cases death. Yet, they still smile and laugh. They still persevere. They still have hope.

There is no way for me to put into words everything that happened in those seven days I was in Moria, but I can tell you some words that gave me the courage to leave. God is very present in Camp Moria, and he has not abandoned the people in it. No, the living situations are not ideal. Some days, the electricity doesn’t work, and it gets very cold at night. Some days they don’t get the option to shower. Sometimes water soaks the inside of their tents because the tarps aren’t enough. Some days it’s just hard. But God is there. If God has taught me one thing from this journey, it’s that there are people out there with big hearts who can teach you more than you can teach them

I went across the world to serve refugees, and instead I was served. I couldn’t understand a single word they said sometimes, but God showed me in such a huge way that words are in no way necessary to share the gospel. We were prohibited to share the word of God or to give out any literature that pertained to God, and that terrified me. How on earth was I supposed to get the gospel to them? But the amazing thing about my God is that he is in no way limited to words or writing on paper. I didn’t verbally share the gospel one time on this journey, but the Lord has made it known to me that gospel was being spread in abundance.

It hurt very much to leave that camp, but in the words of Go Now Missions Consultant Brenda Sanders: “I think it can take more faith to leave than to go. Before you left it was just a place. Now it is faces, names, stories and people. Now you must have faith that God will continue to care for them as you have.” I firmly believe that he is doing just that.

God changed me while I was over there. My view of people changed. Before going, I was a girl who grew up in a town of 400 people and lived in the Bible Belt. My view of the world was very limited to right here in Texas. But God showed me that we are not the only children of God, and he is everywhere and in every culture. All I had ever heard of people from Afghanistan was hate and judgment, but I got to experience nothing but love and joy and acceptance from them.

Please pray for the refugees in Camp Moria. More boats and more people arrive every single day—30 to 40 people per boat. There are 6,000 people in camp right now, and that is over capacity, so housing them and providing clothing for them is getting more difficult. It has snowed, and things seem to be getting worse as far as providing warmth. They need your prayers. God hears every word, and he acts on them.

Also, please pray for me as I get accustomed to being home again. It has honestly been very hard dealing with leaving them and coming home. My heart hurts so much for the refugees and the situation they are in, and it hasn’t been easy being back home.

Halle Smith, a student at the University of Texas at Tyler, served with Go Now Missions Lesvos, Greece, during Christmas break.

The real Jamaica is not the one where tourists go to see beautiful coastlines or the one we stop at once while on a cruise and never look back. The real Jamaica—my Jamaica—is a place where true love of Christ our King runs rampant. It the place where poverty exists so extremely, but where I met people who loved me so immensely. It’s the place where my heart broke numerous times but was glued together by Jesus being ever present in the very people and situations that broke it.

My Jamaica is the place where, on our first day, I was supposed to help build a house alongside my team. Instead, I found myself surrounded and playing with five beautiful children who latched onto me so quickly, almost as if they thought I would up and run away from them if they let go. We played numerous games in the woods—them without shoes to protect their fragile, dirty feet. We even played soccer, but not with a ball. We played with a Sprite bottle filled with dirt. It’s so normal to these kids, but something I never would have thought of on my own. The kids were infatuated with my strangely soft hair, and they could not get enough time taking turns riding on my shoulders. I will never forget their moist, ready-to-spill eyes as I said goodbye that day.

My Jamaica is where we built a brand new foundation for a sweet man named Rickets, who loved singing hymns and prayed with so much passion. He offered joy and praises to the Lord amidst his challenging circumstances—something I so often forget to do.

My Jamaica is where I was able to spend two days at an infirmary—a place like I had never seen before. A place where my heart was wrecked, put together and wrecked again. A place where I met a sweet woman who could not speak, but simply wanted to be near me. This woman held tight to my stark white hand and would not let go. No words were spoken, but vast love was shared.

My Jamaica is where I met Karen, who let me paint her nails. Karen, who had an incredible story and faith journey. Karen, who just wanted her hand held, her feet rubbed, or even simply a piece of candy. Karen, who sang beautiful hymns each time I asked. Karen, who asked me to sing regardless of my horrendous tune. Karen, who I later realized was completely blind. Beautiful Karen would whisper my name as if she could sense me each time I arrived by her bedside. She knew Psalms by heart and loved Psalm 51 immensely.

My Jamaica is:

• Where keys were prayerfully handed to grateful new homeowners.
• Where I wore not one ounce of makeup, but where I had never felt more beautiful.
• Where the people changed me more than I could have ever changed them.
• Where my team became vulnerable.
• Where brokenness was shared and welcomed.
• Where poverty did not mean hopelessness.
• Where spiritual cups were filled by Jesus, not by silly materialistic things.
• Where water was cherished and food was not wasted.

My Jamaica—where love is genuine.

Christine Fisher, a student at Baylor University, served with Go Now Missions in Jamaica.

For 11 days during Christmas break, I had the opportunity to travel to Lesvos, Greece, with a team to volunteer at a refugee camp. I have been on mission trips in the United States and Colombia before, but this experience was completely new for me. I was expecting it to be out of my comfort zone—which it was—but it was also much different than my other mission experiences.

We worked seven 8-hour or 9-hours shifts at the camp, doing everything from serving breakfast and handing out tickets for a blanket distribution, to sorting socks and taking census in the living areas. It was exhausting and stretched my ability to persevere and deal with language and culture barriers. It was very heavy to be in a place with people in such broken situations.

I saw beauty and ugliness contrasted like never before. The weather is freezing and people are living in tents, while the organization we worked through distributed free blankets. A drunk man shouted curse words and shook his fist at the camp, while a sweet child shouted “hello” and hugged me as I walked by. Hostility exists between families of different countries, while there is fellowship among unaccompanied minors who found themselves literally in the same boat. Religious literature is not allowed, while an organization runs events down the road where Bibles can be given. Everyone stands in line after line for meals and amenities, while people generously invite others into their tents for hot tea and a meal. Many do not know or understand the truth of God yet, while a boy became a Christian in Turkey and is now sharing the gospel with the other boys in the minors living section. More boats bring in more people to an already overcrowded place, while a bus brings people from camp to church every Sunday morning.

It is funny, because God spent all of this past semester teaching me to trust when I do not understand. Right now, I do not understand how God can be faithful to those people. I do not understand how God can use my service and the service of others to help them. I do not understand why the Lord chose me, of all people, to experience that. I do not understand why I am sitting in my heated home in America typing this on my laptop while other children of God are sitting in freezing tents in Greece, wondering when they will get a stamp to go to the next camp.

But I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that my understanding is not necessary in order for God’s kingdom to be triumphant. God is faithful. He does use my service and the service of others. He chose me specifically to do the tasks I did. He knows why each person is in each place and is present in both.

Having my eyes opened as I worked in that camp was certainly meaningful. It means I will now be an advocate for refugees. It means I furthered the kingdom of God in some way. It means I pray for the camp and its volunteers and inhabitants. It means I know the brokenness of our world. It means I do not understand it, and I am OK with that. It means God is still God, no matter what. It means the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it (John 1:5).

Amanda Finnigan, a freshman at Houston Baptist University, served with Go Now Mission in Greece.

I have always had a special love and passion for children. When I first heard about a mission trip to Ukraine, I immediately felt called to go. I saw no better way to spend my Christmas break than to share Jesus with orphans.

This was my first time to travel overseas. I had no idea what to expect. During my 13-plus- hour plane ride to Ukraine, I tried to picture what exactly it would be like. It was nothing like I imagined.

Our first morning in Ukraine, we drove about four hours on torn-apart roads to Kherson. That day was spent going through hundreds of boxes with brand-new winter shoes, socks, Bibles and hand-knitted hats.

The rest of our time in both Kherson and Odessa was spent working in several orphanages, fitting children for new shoes and sharing the gospel with them. We used a gospel bracelet that had a gold bead representing heaven and a black bead representing sin that prevents us from going to heaven. A red bead represented the blood of Jesus, who died on a cross so that we may have a relationship with God and enter into his kingdom. A white bead represented purity, because thanks to what Jesus did, we are now able to be made pure. The final bead was green. The children learned if you believe and accept Jesus into your heart, then you should spend time growing in your relationship with him.

At first, a pastor made the gospel presentations. After we watched him a few times, he asked team members to volunteer to present the gospel through an interpreter. There was a day that I took that step and shared the Good News with the children. I am so thankful to have had that opportunity. I asked every child to repeat the prayer to accept Jesus. Whether they all meant it in their heart or not is not for me to know, but I am honored to have been used by the Holy Spirit to at least plant seeds in the lives of the children.

Going on this trip was very eye-opening for me. It’s one thing to hear how blessed you really are, but it is another to experience how others live. The conditions in these orphanages was very depressing. I wish I could do so much more than provide them winter clothes, but I was able to share with them the greatest gift of all, Jesus.

At one orphanage, we were unable to get our truck to it due to the trees. This was just another example to show that even without new shoes, they were still able to hear about the greatest gift of all. It was very sad walking into that orphanage seeing the children lined up with old shoes already off and prepared for new ones. I did not walk out of that orphanage with any regret though, knowing that they now knew about a Savior who is greater than any new shoe they could ever receive.

I am so thankful for the team I worked with, the translators and everyone who helped us do God’s work in Ukraine. During my time there, around 35 orphanages were reached and around 4,000 children were able to hear about Jesus. This was not only a life-changing event for me to experience, but also for the children who now personally know Jesus as Savior.

Candace Hall, a student at the University of Texas at Arlington, served in Ukraine with Go Now Missions, working in partnership with Children’s Emergency Relief International.

I took the advice of one of my teammates and intentionally put myself in a position where I would be uncomfortable so that God could use me. I decided to work in registration here at Mission Arlington. I was scared to do that initially, because I knew I would have to communicate with a lot of people, and that’s something I struggle with. At first, I was still really scared. I didn’t want to talk to anyone or go help them. It got to the point where I didn’t have a choice, because all of the other people were busy.

A woman had walked in. I handed her a clipboard and explained to her what she needed to do. She kept saying: “I’m so sorry. This time of year is rough. I’ve had a bad morning.” I helped her find a seat, and when she finished filling out the paperwork, I went over to verify her documents. As I was looking over birth certificates and other things, her eyes were just glowing as she told me about her kids and the stuff they like to do. She explained she had nine kids, and only three are still young enough to live in her house.

Then she started to talk about her 11-year-old daughter. She told me that because of self-harm habits and attempted suicides, her daughter spent time in and out of psychiatric wards. Her mom wanted to get the girl something nice for Christmas so she would “maybe want to stay.” I realized she wasn’t just talking about her daughter staying at home. She was talking about how her daughter doesn’t want to stay on this Earth at all. That broke my heart so much. The woman began tearing up at this point, and she looked at me so solemnly, saying: “Can you just keep my baby girl in your prayers? I don’t know what I would do if I lost her.”

I asked her if she was comfortable with me praying with her right then, and she said that was OK. I asked if there was anything else that I could pray for, and she began to tell me about many of the other struggles she’s facing with her family. She can’t work, her husband just lost his job, and she missed her renewal for food stamps. The only gifts she was able to get for Christmas were for the three kids in her household. She was so upset, because they didn’t even have a Christmas tree up, because she had gotten injured and couldn’t do it. She was broken and overloaded and just exhausted.

I took her hands and prayed for her, hoping that she would find peace and comfort in Christ. I prayed she would not to trust the world, and that God would provide for her like we knew he could. I prayed that her daughter would be healed mentally and physically because of her love for Jesus, and that God would bring someone into her life to disciple her and lead her toward him. After we were done, I talked with her a bit longer until she was called away. I was so encouraged by that woman and her trust in God. She left there knowing God would take care of her, and I’m confident he will.

Serenity Harris, a student at Tyler Junior College, served with Go Now Missions at Mission Arlington.

I have never been happier in my life than I am right now. This semester, the Lord has taught me how much joy is found when we say “yes”—no matter what, where, or who he is calling us to serve.

If you had told me two years ago I would take a semester off to be a missionary at Restoring Hope Village in South Africa, I would have laughed in your face. But here I am, about to finish a semester of service in South Africa. I had my own plans, but the Lord knew exactly where I needed to be.  And it has been the best semester of my life.

The past year has been full of pushing against God, trying to make my own plans work. First, I was called to serve for a semester. Then I said “yes” to going on a trip that I did not really want to go on. There was even a time when I considered saying “no.” But I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, the Lord was telling me to spend a semester in South Africa, so I took a step of faith—and here I am.

This semester has been full of new experiences, hard times and frustrations. But every single day, I wake up knowing that 100 feet outside my door are four houses full of kids I adore. I get to experience their laughs, smiles and the fun that comes with being a “big sister” to 27 precious kids. Overall, I could sum up my experience with two words—pure joy. It the joy that only comes from the Lord. Joy that is found when you do exactly what the Lord has called you to do.

This is probably the biggest lesson I have learned this semester. Sometimes, we do not understand why the Lord is calling us somewhere. Sometimes we think our plans are better than his. But in the end, God’s plan is the best. God knows where we need to be and has been preparing us for it every step of the way. Saying “yes” to the place God has called you will bring true joy—joy that can only be found when we rest in his dwelling place. So. even when it seems insane, my answer will forever be “yes,” because there is nothing that can compare to God’s plan and the joy experienced in Christ.

Melody Davis, a student at Texas A&M University, has been serving in South Africa this semester with Go Now Missions. 

One thing I was told before leaving for South Asia this summer was, “You never know who is listening to what you are sharing.” However, I didn’t know how real this statement was until the end of my summer experience. Just two weeks before I came back to the States, I saw God pursue the hearts of three girls after one of them overheard a story I was telling some people nearby. I witnessed the Lord lay out a pathway that led directly to him, only I didn’t know it at the time.

Discouraged and frustrated

While the end of my summer had so many beautiful moments and memories, it was also really challenging. I was feeling discouraged and beaten down by two things.

First, I was frustrated by the small number of Muslim women we were reaching. Coming into the summer, I thought each day would be spent with Muslim women. The reality was that it was spent mostly with Hindu women, instead. Though I loved spending time with the people I met each day, my heart weighed heavy for the group of women we weren’t getting to reach, because I knew they also needed Jesus.

The second burden I was carrying around was formed from words I would hear each day when we would share our faith. People would say: “Yes, I worship Jesus. He is my favorite god.” They do not worship Jesus as the Son of the one and only God; rather, they see him as one of many gods. They worship him as another idol of theirs, instead of worshiping him as the one true God. Because of this polytheistic worldview, I felt like the women were not fully grasping what we were saying. I was ready to present the gospel to Muslim women because they also believed in only one God. I wanted to see another set of beliefs from the people in my city.

After talking to my supervisors and telling them about my struggle, they gave my team and me a list of areas in our city that were predominantly Muslim, and I was very excited. With only two weeks left in the city, we sought out these Muslim areas. The first place we went was once again disappointing and frustrating. There were no Muslim women in the area, and I began bracing myself for yet another day of hearing: “Yes, I worship Jesus. He is my favorite god.”

The girl who listened

My team and I decided to split up and go our separate ways to walk the streets to share the gospel with people. Right away, we found a group of women sitting outside their government housing building, so we approached them and began talking. During our discussion with them, people would pop in and out, which was typical for the area. Everyone was so interested in the foreigners and wanted to know why we were in South Asia. But as curious as they were, no one ever stayed around for too long, because they quickly became bored and would continue on with their day.

After talking for a little bit, we began to share the gospel and tell how Jesus gave up his life so that they too could be in heaven with him one day. As we were talking, I noticed a girl walk up. She slowly made her way down the hallway close to where the ladies were sitting and stood there leaning against the wall, listening to every word of the gospel. As the conversation got deeper and more in depth, I turned my attention away from the woman in the hallway and focused on the women in front of me.

After a few more minutes of talking, we could tell the women no longer were interested in talking to us and hearing what we had to say. So, I turned my attention back to the girl in the hallway but she was no longer there. As we continued down the street I couldn’t stop thinking about that girl. Why had she stayed, listened to the full story, and still walked away? What were her thoughts on the story? Did she believe it was true?

It was almost lunch time. The heat was at its highest for the day, and no one had any interest in sitting outside when they could be in their shaded homes. We were becoming desperate to find women to talk to. As we walked along the streets, there was no one in sight except for a few men, and it was culturally not OK for us as women to approach these men.

Invited into a home

Then, far off in the distance we saw three women standing outside their building. As we made our way to them, they noticed us and decided they were not in the mood to talk and quickly retreated to the inside of their homes therefore cutting off any opportunity we might have to share with them. We quickly turned around to go down another road and there she was—the girl from the hallway who had stayed to hear the whole gospel story. How crazy is that? Not only was she standing right in front of me, but we were standing right in front of the building where she lived.

She invited my partner, translator and me into her home. We walked in, took off our shoes and plopped right down on the concrete floor, and then she left. As we were sitting in this small dimly lit room with little airflow from the single window, we were confused as to why she would bring us into her home only to leave. After a few minutes, the girl came back and we were thrilled to see she had brought her neighbors to meet us and talk with us as well. Then a few more minutes passed and more people come in to sit and talk to us. Eight girls—not including myself, my teammate and our translator—ended up squeezing into the one small room that day where we got to share the story of Adam and Eve.

We told the women how when God first created the world, there was no sin, and we had peace with God. But we were separated from him after man sinned. That then led into the gospel. We told them God does not want to be separated from us. God wants us to be with him eternally in heaven. God loves us so much that he sent his Son to the Earth to live the perfect life so he could be the perfect sacrifice for the sins of everyone in the world, because the wages of our sin is death. We told them they could have a relationship with Jesus while on earth, and he can cleanse them of their sins so they too could spend eternity in heaven.

Lives changed

As we were telling them all of this, the girl from the hallway began to weep. She had just been kicked out of her home by her husband and no longer was able to see her daughter. She felt abandoned, unloved, unwanted and hopeless. After she heard what Jesus did for her because of his immeasurable love, she couldn’t believe it. Filled with gratitude and awe of Jesus, she decided to give her life fully to him that day, and so did her friend. They both understood Jesus will always love them, that he desires to know them, and he will never leave them or forsake them. Then another woman in the room who had already believed in Jesus said that she wanted to be baptized and make a public profession of her faith in Jesus and to walk boldly in it.

I have been back in the States for a few weeks now, and I’ve been praying for my friends I met that day. Just a few days ago, my translator, who is from the city I was in for the summer, sent me a video. I opened it up and saw those three girls being baptized. I saw them choosing Jesus and choosing to take up their crosses each day in a city that is so far from knowing the one true God because they worship all the wrong gods. As I read the message attached to the video, I was filled with joy because those three women went and shared the gospel with a friend and that friend also came to faith. As I kept scrolling down and reading the message I saw another video of their friend being baptized on the same day.

To see the way the Lord worked in just one day blows me away. He took my negative outlook and showed me that what I’m sharing is so urgent and life-changing, and I will never know who around me is impacted by what I say. I need to be focused on the people I am reaching and not question why I’m unable to reach a certain group of people. God will send me to the people who are ready as long as I am willing to go. Looking back, I see how the Lord intricately worked that day and how he continued to work in the days following. He is finding ways to make his name known in a place filled with so much darkness, whether it be with people from the States or nationals in that area. Please join me in praying for South Asia. It is now a place so close to my heart. Pray for my friends who are new to their faith, and pray they would be bold in sharing their beliefs with the lost people around them.

Connor, a student at Texas A&M University, served in South Asia with Go Now Missions. Her last name is withheld for security reasons.

I’m back in Texas after 50-plus days away. People ask me, “I bet you’re glad to be back, right?”

I usually just respond with a nod, because on the inside, I don’t really know my answer.

At his recent retirement party, my dad told everyone in the room they had hit the jackpot by being born in America, because this nation is very blessed.  He also said he hit the jackpot a second time by being born in Texas. I don’t fall far from the tree. I have been raised with American and Texan pride. In fact, I’m fourth-generation Texan, going back to the 1870s.

However, when I came back to Texas recently, it did not feel completely like home. It still doesn’t, even though Texas has been my home my entire life.

People say this feeling is common, and it’s because you leave a piece of your heart on the mission field. As corny as it sounds, it’s true. A part of my heart is still in León, but León isn’t my home, either.

When I was there this summer, I felt like my heart was being torn in all sorts of directions. I loved León and knew I was doing what the Lord had called me to do. I often thought about the day I’d go home, and I shed tears because I dreaded the thought of having to leave Mexico—my teammates, church, supervisor, friends, all the people I had met, and the language and culture with which I had fallen in love.

However, I also felt some excitement about that day, because I still longed to be with my friends in Texas for the little things and the big things.  I wanted to be there as they got married, made more memories in everyday life, and celebrated birthdays and enjoyed fireworks on the 4th of July.

I loved and fully wanted to be on the mission field, but also longed to be with my close friends and family. I didn’t want to miss the precious moments and memories they were making, even though I was having my own life-changing experience in León. Unfortunately, during that brief six-week season, those two things couldn’t be achieved simultaneously. My mission field this summer was León, while my family and friends were here in Texas.

I had never felt this tension in my heart to the extent I did for the 6 weeks in León.  I felt like Buddy in the movie Elf, when he’s running away and writing a note on the Etch-a-Sketch: “I’m sorry that I ruined your lives and crammed eleven cookies in the VCR. I don’t belong here. I don’t belong anywhere. I’ll never forget you. Love, Buddy.”

For the record, I didn’t cram 11 cookies in the VCR.  I just felt slightly incomplete, missing my family and friends in Texas. But now that I’m in Texas seeing those people, I feel slightly out of place—missing Mexico and wanting to go back.

The Lord reminded me that my life is his, and that’s a sacrifice the Lord might call us to make. When we respond to the gospel by giving our lives to follow Christ, we may not have the freedom to live in the same country as all of our loved ones. He reminded me of a time I read these words from Jesus in Luke 14 when I was 16 and thought deeply about them:

“And whoever does not carry their cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.  Suppose one of you wants to build a tower. Won’t you first sit down and estimate the cost to see if you have enough money to complete it? For if you lay the foundation and are not able to finish it, everyone who sees it will ridicule you, saying, ‘This person began to build and wasn’t able to finish.’ In the same way, those of you who do not give up everything you have cannot be my disciples.”

Giving up everything we have to follow him? I can’t think of a higher price that I can pay. Still, it’s overshadowed by the price Jesus paid for us all, laying down his perfect, sinless life for us—people who are broken, sinful and far from perfect. Everything you have? Few things are worth that, but isn’t he worthy?  Jim Elliot said it better than I ever could: “He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.”

All that to say, when we follow Jesus, we surrender the right to constantly be with or live near the people that we desire.  There was a deep longing in my heart to be with my family and friends. Honestly, I don’t know if that desire will ever fully go away. When I see pictures or hear stories, I still feel that longing—wishing that I could have been there. Even in the midst of truly loving the mission field, I felt it. I have no regrets about how I spent my summer, but I still feel it.

There is a reason it feels unnatural and even painful. My heart is being torn in multiple different directions. This world is not my home and I was not made for it. We were not made to experience longing and pain. We were all designed to walk in perfect relationship with our Creator, but for now, we are still here on this earth, in the tension.

I have come back “home” to Texas, but I still look forward to the day Jesus comes back and the desires of my heart are fully fulfilled—when I truly go home.  No more longing, brokenness or sadness. I will be with all of my brothers and sisters in Christ in the presence of God for all eternity. My soul was made for that, and I cannot wait for the day that I truly come home.

Laramie T. Walton, a student at Midwestern State University, served with Go Now Missions in León, Mexico.

My journey to surrendering to God started last summer, when I was a leader at youth camp. One night before worship, I asked the Lord to reveal something to me, whether it be the message, or just a word that stood out. One song that we sang was “At the Cross.” The chorus says: “At the cross, at the cross, I surrender my life. I’m in awe of you.” As soon as I sang “I surrender my life,” I instantly knew that is what the Lord wanted from me. I didn’t know at the time what I would be surrendering to, but I knew I needed to give up my control.

Fast forward to October, when I was contemplating the idea of serving with Go Now Missions. For the past two years, I struggled with feeling called to go. I have been on countless mission trips, but my control was holding me back. I came up with several excuses why I shouldn’t go—money, fear of the unknown, time, not being able to work and a school internship. In my mind, I selfishly wanted the shortest trip offered, because it seemed more doable. After talking to a friend, she gave me a friendly push to “surrender” and fill out an application.

I filled out the application, still with reservations about committing. After some time, I began to feel peace about the possibility to serve this summer. By the time it came attend Discovery Weekend, I started to freak out a little bit. It was becoming too real. I really began praying to make sure this is what the Lord wanted me to do.

Peace. I felt the indescribable feeling of peace. All the concerns about Discovery Weekend diminished when I got there. When it came time to fill out placement cards, I was torn between two trips. Both had pros and cons, but selfishly I wanted the shortest trip. It would have been a good fit, but that’s not what the Lord was calling me to. I put down my “second” choice as my No. 1, knowing I was going to get it. Sure enough, that became my assignment.

Still a little unsure, I accepted the placement, knowing this had to be the lord’s call. Everything I was worried about ended up not being an issue. I was fully funded, had the best partner/ supervisor, and I even was going to get credit for my school internship. If I had decided to not surrender, if I had been disobedient to God’s call, I would have missed the opportunity of growing in my faith.

I had a problem with control, not knowing the details, and being flexible. God doesn’t take our fears and use them against us, he uses them to strengthen us if we let him. God worked in me to always trust his will and to have faith that he works out the details. If I had said no, I would have missed out on meeting and learning from some incredible people.

I loved every second of the month I spent in Tennessee. I was worried about the length of the trip, but I found myself wanting to stay longer. It was a humbling experience to serve and love on a population that is often overlooked—vulnerable women and children.

Go Now seemed so intimidating at first, but it turned out to be one of the most enjoyable experiences in my life. I never thought I could do something like Go Now. Looking back, I can’t believe I didn’t do it sooner!

Erin McCleer, a student at Howard Payne University, served with Go Now Missions at a shelter for women and children in Jefferson City, Tenn.

The Muslim call to prayer cuts through this city five times a day. I should be used to it by now, but it still catches me off guard every time. In former days, a muezzin would climb up the minaret tower of the mosque and sing the call to prayer from there, his Arabic song carrying only as far as his voice could reach. Today, his voice is pumped through a public-address system to reach the city at large.

And he is not alone. At every mosque (and there are as many mosques here as there are churches in a decently sized Southern town) a voice sings out. The product is an eerie mix of deep voices (with varying degrees of vocal ability) singing on top of one another. It pours into the humid Middle-Eastern air and wafts into every home and business to invite the inhabitants to pray. As a result, everyone knows when it’s time to pray. The other result is that my teammates and I never forget where we are and just how much is stacked against the Good News in this land.

Before coming to the Middle East, I was told that mission work here would be difficult and slow. I can still hear the words of one supervisor: “You know the parable of the four soils? Well, the kind of work you will be doing is more like pre-sowing. You’re going to be digging up rocks.” I have not heard a more accurate description.

For example, just the other day I was having a conversation with a Muslim teenage girl and the subject of Jesus came up. The girl tried to explain to me that he didn’t actually die on the cross. (Muslims generally believe that the traitor Judas stepped up to take Christ’s place.)

She would have continued her short speech, but I side-stepped the Judas debate and asked if she knew why Christians believe Jesus did die that day. A look of surprise flashed across her formerly confident expression.

“No, I don’t know,” she replied.

I explained the concept of sacrifice, underscoring its parallels in Islam and Christ’s identity as the Lamb of God. She listened patiently, but before long we were on to a different subject.

How much of that conversation stuck in her head? I have no way of knowing. What I do know, however, is that she ­– and all other Muslims – “deserve to hear it.” Such are the words of a Palestinian Christian I met before leaving. After being trapped in a system of works trying to earn paradise, they deserve to know the truth and freedom that our Savior brings. As the encounter above illustrates, so much of what they have been taught about Christians and Jesus are distortions and lies. These are the “rocks” that need digging up as part of the seed sowing process.

But for all of the misconceptions that they have about us, they have one thing right. They call us masiHee, which has its root in the word messiah. To them, we are those who believe in a messiah. And indeed, that is what we are. The question remains for us: Will we show them what it means to belong to the Messiah?

Traditional mission work doesn’t fly over here. In fact, it is very much illegal. But truth be told, the Muslims I’m serving in this country don’t need our evangelical tracts or our preaching, and they most certainly don’t need any hand-outs (this particular country is pretty wealthy.) What they do need, however, is Christians living among them and holding out the word of life (Php 2:16). Among this people, we are “letters from Christ,” as Paul puts it in 2 Corinthians 3. We are letters written by the Spirit and sent to this culture and generation, with the ink of freedom and love still fresh on every page.

Does it take time to break through the lies here? Yes. Does it take time and effort to gain their trust and share our hope? Yes. Are there times when it seems like the message just isn’t getting through? Again, yes. But a piece of advice I learned during training now always echoes in my ears: “The proper way to respond to any situation is with faith and hope.”

After an awesome conversation about Jesus–faith and hope. And after a disheartening day with what seems to be no progress at all–faith and hope. By this I mean not a mere optimism blind to the task ahead, but an abiding faith that Christ is who he says he is and a shining hope that he is in control even here. If Christ is for us, who can be against us? Even now, he is working to set all things right.

And the work in this region has not been without fruit. A worker here described the sense of fresh wonder among two new native believers as she walked through the word of God with them. “God did this . . . put this all together in a beautiful story . . . for us?” they asked in awe.

It’s joy like this that brings me back to the parable of the four soils. In many ways, it can be perceived as a sad tale. Three of the soils choke out any new life that forms! But Jesus says that the fourth soil bears a crop that yields a hundred times more than what was originally sown. And I’ve come to take that not just in numbers, but in beauty. For it is a special kind of beauty when even just one Muslim realizes that the good news of Jesus Christ is neither an American thing nor a Western thing, but a gift and a promise meant for all peoples.

We have been promised a harvest. Not a gratification of our pride and not an accomplishment of our own agendas, but a harvest in His own way and time. With the seed sown by his servants and watered by the Spirit himself, I am convinced that the harvest will continue to grow in this land too. All that remains is to continue in faith and hope, trusting our Savior all the way. 

Libby, a student at Baylor University, served in the Middle East with Go Now Missions. Her last name is withheld for security reasons.

I reluctantly agreed to go with a friend to her church’s outreach in a less-fortunate area of the city. I was tired from working the day shift at the clinic, but I decided it would be fun to try something new.

We rolled up to a neighborhood with two huge pots of chocolate rice, a favorite Filipino treat. It was garnished with gum drops, and kids came running from every house in sight. They arrived with mugs, bowls and even old ice cream containers to be filled with food after singing an array of songs to Jesus.

Once all the bowls were filled there were no kids in sight. After receiving their bowl full of chocolate rice, they run back to their homes to share possibly their only meal that day with their parents and younger siblings. Such little kids already thinking about providing food for their families is an overwhelming sight.

Saturday was another overwhelming day. It started with going out to past patients’ homes to check up on them and share God’s love with them. We decided that we would share the parable of the sower and talk about what it meant to be the “good soil.” It was my turn to share the story, so I start speaking. Suddenly, the new mom said: “Wait! Let me get everyone out here to listen to what you have to say.” So, she proceeded to call not only the entire household, but also the employees from the soap-making business they own.

I was suddenly overwhelmed again when our audience grew by about 20 people that don’t understand English. It ended up being a wonderful time and the most response that we’ve received from our Saturday outreach. The Lord really blessed us through this situation that made me so nervous and overwhelmed.

Pray for spiritual and physical endurance for us as we work in clinic/ birth room duty. And pray for more opportunities to plant and water seeds of the gospel.

Naomi Gonzalez, a nursing major from Del Mar College, is serving in the Mercy Midwives project in the Philippines with Go Now Missions.

When we talk about doing missions, surely many of us think of going somewhere far from home and possibly preaching the gospel to a lot of people or having a place with a big crowd surrounding us and telling them about Jesus. If that had never crossed your mind, at least it has crossed mine. Until a few weeks ago, I had that idea about doing missions. Now I realize that it is not like that.

I couldn’t understand how God was going to use me here if I wasn’t able to talk about God with the children. If I spent my time sweeping the floor in the mornings or washing a pile of dishes, how I would reach souls if I did not preach about the gospel. I thought: “I don’t think I’m doing missions. I’m sure I’m in the wrong place.” I thought I was not contributing at all to the kingdom of God. But, how can we be missionaries if we do not understand the meaning of missions?

God has made me understand that missions is not what we do; it is who we are in Jesus Christ. It is to show the love of God in everything we do—no matter if we feel or think we are not making a big impact around us. Surely, God is working something big at that moment, and you do not even realize that.

God is love. Therefore, when we do things under his authority, everything we do will be done with love and humility. God is never wrong when he put us in the place where we are. God wants to use us where we are, and he wants us to shine that light that he has given us.

Karla Magana Gonzalez, a student at Tarrant County College, is serving in Spain with Go Now Missions.