"Okay, after this video, I am going to ask you an important question. Do you feel that God has called you to be a missionary?", one of the leaders of my mission team said on the last night in a small, beautiful country that was promising huge and terrifying commitments. It was our goodbye ceremony, setting an end to the wonderful eight days that we had been given to grow with our team and in our faith. For some of us, it was a "farewell" and for others, it was a "see you soon". It was a bitter-sweet evening, filled with dancing, laughing, and crying. Truly one of the greatest memories that I possess. We were getting ready to watch the recap video to that week, when once again, I heard the question that I had been debating and praying over for so long. The question that seemed to reoccur in my life after I got saved. "Are you called?" But the question wasn't mine to answer. I took myself a few months back, when I sat in a church in Lebanon and Tony Nolan had asked the same question. It was God's choice, His calling. My hands shook as I asked Him what I had to do. I told Him to lead me to the row of chairs lined up in front of everyone, only if I was supposed to. "This is a serious commitment," I thought. "And I only want to answer if the call is for me."My heart was conflicted and I sat in my seat during the four-minute long video and gave myself excuses to as of why I shouldn't go up. None of those excuses mattered. The video ended and I heard the man's ask the question again. "Are you called?" I found myself in the seat on the far end. It was as if God lifted me up and carried me to there as soon as the words came out of the man's mouth. I broke down not before the people staring at me, but before the King holding me. At first, I was stunned at what happened. No matter how collected I tried to appear, I could not control the overflow of tears. It was as if I broke and God was unceasingly pouring love into the cracks. I kept thinking of Jesus' sacrifice for me: The crucifixion. Though He must have felt excruciatingly terrified, He was committed. That was my incomparable commitment to Him; one that seemed to cost everything to me, but nothing to Him. In that moment, I caught a glimpse of what, at some point or another, God was wanting to do in my life. That moment was like when I found salvation, being picked up by the hand of God and being led before people to make commitments that were greater than myself. In both of those moments, God flashed before my eyes just what He had done and wanted to continue to give; although, I was simultaneously offering all I had to Him: Myself. A girl in her twenties walked up to me and started praying. She only spoke Spanish, but there was an electrifying connection between her and I. Though I had never seen her, it was as if I knew her. One thing El Salvador had taught me was that language barriers are nothing when it comes to a God who speaks great volumes through His silence. Everyone got out of their seats and came to the front. As the El Salvador flags hung over our shoulders and our feet were being washed, I heard the man again. "El Salvador means 'My Savior', so we're sending you out in good hands." The woman that was praying over me was the one washing my feet. I couldn't help but think, "I just committed to serving You, God, yet You get someone to serve me? It doesn't fit." As I wondered this, I felt purpose. That week, God showed me the importance of humility; humbling myself to the point where I will go with eagerness if He calls me to move out of my comfort zones. He showed me the importance of having the heart of a Seeker. Like David He wants followers after His own heart, nothing more and nothing less. He stripped away myself with His own hands. He wanted my heart and He stole it. I was not the only one. That week, He rightfully became the first love for many hearts. He called people to obedience, to loving, and to seeking. Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up.
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