As we all go to sleep at night, there are many things that can fill our minds. It is in this time that we try to unwind. The events of the day are swirling in the forefront of our minds. Some people choose to let the swirling go and see where it will take them. Other people choose to focus in on one area. Some people even try to disengage all together. They instead try to think of something they want to think about. These thoughts can be about anything. Some choose to think of friends or special people, others try to dream of their favorite places.
Over time, I have come to realize that my mind doesn’t go to the normal places that most people’s minds go to. Sometimes, I think about random things, but more times than not, I am drawn to something different. I think about what the future could be like.
When I prepare for sleep, my mind takes me across the world. This could be slightly normal for most people, but it is not a happy world that I think about. I think about living overseas, as America in crumbling to pieces. I think of how I will survive, when I have no supporters that live in America. I think of a simple yet crazy life. Working manual labor to survive and eat food.
I then think about sneaking across borders. I would not just sneak through the jungle, but I would go right through customs. At customs, I wouldn’t tell the people about being a missionary, but I would explain that I was just a simple story teller. To make my point more clear, I would then weave together a story, not about God, but a story that explains the helplessness of life. This story leaves the men at customs wishing there was more to live for. I would then ask them, if they wanted to hear a story that gave them hope. At this point, I would go all out. I would explain the creation of the world. I would show the people God and his love for the universe. I would then reveal how man had turned their backs on God. The men would be listening intently. I would then introduce God’s solution. I would tell them about how Jesus brought us back to God. I would then say, “Jesus brought me back to the God who created me. He showed me that my meaningless life could have purpose. Now all I can do is share Christ with other people. I must do this regardless of circumstances. If I suffer and die, it is of no consequence. It is better to die for Jesus, then to live for myself.” As I say these words, there will be a slight tear in my eye. The men at customs are taken by surprise. This is not a normal day at work. This is not what they were expecting. With a glimmer of hope in their eyes, they let me into the country. They know that they shouldn’t have done that, but something has changed. They feel hope. This is something they haven’t felt for a long time. Since the collapse of America things have been hard all over the world. These men now realized that they have something to live for that has value.
I walk through customs, and I am now in a country that doesn’t want me there. All the other missionaries have been kicked out or killed. I knew it would only be a short while before I was found out. But I didn’t care. God had called me, so all I could do was listen. In the country, I do all I can to spread the words of Christ.
In time, I am captured. They throw me in a dingy cell with many other prisoners. None of them are part of my culture, and most of them are in that prison for serious crimes. They have no love for white people, and they are not excited about my presence there. Though they treat me with utter hatred and abuse, I try my hardest to love them. I share the little food I get with them, and I pray for them. Over time, the men come to realize that I love them more than anyone else ever has. No matter how much they hurt me, I continue to love. Slowly, I see their lives begin to change. The message of Christ is slowly circulated around most of the prison.
The guards are not as gracious however. Daily, they take me into a room, and try to reform me. They tell me the life I could have if I simply stopped preaching Christ. They promise me position and wealth. All I have to do is curse Christ. They soon find that this is not working and try to be a bit more “persuasive.” Slowly they do things that I have only seen in holocaust movies. My finger nails are each ripped out with pliers. They slowly cut of pieces of my body. The regular beatings seem like a walk in the park compared to these special techniques. I wish that they would just simply whip me or beat me with batons. Once they are done with my torture, I am taken out to work. I work with the other inmates doing meaningless projects. The work is long and hard. My body aches from the long hours of work combined with the torture.
At the end of the day, I am given a small portion of water, and a small bowl of rice. This is my only meal of the day. Though I never thought it could be possible, I am losing even more weight. The days pass by and nothing changes. I simply endure torture and work day after day. One day, the guards lose their patience with me. That night, as I return to my cell, I am unable to walk. I realize that I will never be able to walk again. A few days later, the guards give up on my reform all together, and put an end to all of it. My life was not long lived, but it was a life of purpose. I lived well.
When I think about these things, I am not repulsed by them. I don’t want to suffer. I don’t enjoy pain. I have never found it to be fun. However, I do not run from these thoughts either. Though they are just thoughts, I don’t think they are far from the truth. My prayer is not, “God, please make me suffer for your name.” My prayer is simply this, “God, let your will be done in my life. I will do whatever you ask me to do.” That is my desire. Lord let your will be done. Use me for your glory Jesus. If I must suffer then I will suffer for you. Let nothing hold me back God. I want to be completely yours.
What do you think about before you go to bed?
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