God’s Strength in Our Weakness

Here is a Kingdom Builders Report from a Radiant Church member, Renee. Read about her experience growing in the area of outreach and evangelism, and take a moment to be encouraged by her testimony. This is a story of God’s strength being displayed in our weakness and living out the call of the Great Commission in our everyday lives. 

 Outreach isn’t what I thought it was going to be. I’ve always been good with people, good at talking to strangers and making new friends. When I signed up for my first small group at Radiant, an outreach group seemed like it would be an easy fit. I imagined going downtown, talking with and communing with the homeless people on the streets; I imagined myself “fixing” their problems and sleeping so well, knowing what a difference I had made. That’s not the reality of outreach. 

I feel ill-equipped for this task. I don’t have a plethora of verses to pull out of a hat when someone needs biblical encouragement. I still check the front of my bible to see what page to turn to for certain books. I’ve discovered that I’m actually pretty uncomfortable praying out loud and I stumble through my words, more often than not. These are gifts and strengths that I didn’t realize I don’t have until I got downtown. 

I keep going back and I keep doing what I know in my heart I’ve been called to do. My expectations have changed and my outlook has changed. More importantly, my walk with Christ has changed. There are people that I have met downtown that is there consistently, week after week and month after month. I know people by name and while most of them don’t remember mine, a lot of them at least know my face.  I think that for the homeless, there’s some comfort in familiarity. There’s comfort in conversation, in being heard. What I’ve learned is that it’s not my job to “fix” anything for anyone. It’s my job to be present and to give people the opportunity to be heard. 

A lot of times when we talk about discipleship, we talk about reaping what you sow. We all want to experience the life-changing, tear-jerking moment when someone commits their life to the Lord. We think about discipling a friend and sharing in their journey as they discover what it means to be a Christian, praying with them when they make their commitment to follow Jesus. What we don’t talk about often enough is the courage and determination it takes to sow into a stranger knowing that we may not be the person to reap the harvest. We may have one encounter with someone and never see them again. I’ve spoken to several people about this and most often we use the phrase “planting seeds.” We may not be the ones chosen to reap the harvest but we are all called to plant seeds. We are called to be God’s disciples and to be the hands and feet of Jesus. Now, what we talk about even less than planting seeds is how so many of the people we encounter, especially the homeless, are hardened and closed off. How can we plant seeds in hearts of stone? What I’ve come to realize is that sometimes, oftentimes, God doesn’t place someone in my path who is ready to hear what I have to say instead someone is longing for me to hear what they need to say. I believe we can break through stone, even if just creating a small crack, with one conversation, five minutes, a sympathetic ear, and being someone who is truly listening and invested in what others have to say. Maybe in our next encounter, the opportunity will arise to introduce some scripture or to share my testimony or maybe that encounter is reserved for someone else. It’s not my job to know the full plan. It’s my job to show up and be present for the people the Lord has placed in my path. 

I keep going back and I keep doing what I know in my heart I’ve been called to do. My expectations have changed and my outlook has changed. More importantly, my walk with Christ has changed.

Eight or more months ago, I met “Ann” while handing out water and snacks downtown. She was in tears and cramming as many of her things into her friend’s vehicle as she could. We stopped and spoke with the two women for a while. They told us that “Ann” had been kicked out of the car she had been staying in and didn’t want to go back because she didn’t want to do the things the man who owned the car was forcing her to do in order to stay with him. Her friend’s car was packed to the brim; she lived in this car and didn’t have room for “Ann” but was trying to help keep her things secure. “Ann” was probably in her late teens/early twenties and suffers from anger issues. She told us that because of her outbursts, she was no longer allowed to stay at the local mission. Every ounce of me wanted to bring her home with me. My son, at that time, was about 6 months old. I knew that it wasn’t in his best interests to bring this girl into our home. Eventually, our group moved on to offer supplies to other people around the area. I stayed with “Ann” and I asked if I could pray for her. I prayed for peace and control over her anger and I prayed for protection and provision for her life. I told her that she was God’s daughter and that he loves her. I gave her a hug and left. I cried as I drove home.

I think about “Ann” often, not every day but most. I’ve never seen her again and I don’t know what happened to her. As I shared the encounter with my husband, I told him that I felt like I had failed this young girl. I wasn’t able to fix her situation. All I could do was pray for her. He told me he was sure that was the most important thing I could have done for her. As I think about that phrase, “All I could do was pray for her,” it has morphed from a feeling of negativity and failure to one of strength and great power. The absolute greatest gift we can offer another person is not something that stems from our pockets but something that as Christians, we are commanded to share. Why do we hesitate at the opportunity to share God’s love? 

Outreach isn’t easy and it makes me uncomfortable. Most nights after meeting with my outreach group, sleep doesn’t come easy. I miss family dinners and playtime with my son. More often than not, my heart feels heavy and I feel frustrated that I can’t “fix” the problems of the people I meet. But, I continue to meet people and I learn their names. Their names are written on my prayer list every single day. And that is the single greatest gift I’ll ever be able to give.