The space between “Lord, please send someone else” and the willingness that smiles and says, “Here I am, send me!”

 

Not long after I published Grandma’s Letters from Africa, I was thumbing through the Bible I used during the era my husband and I were applying to Wycliffe Bible Translators.  

 

In that Bible, I found an old yellow sticky-note with questions I’d asked myself about the radical demands of discipleship Jesus spoke of in Matthew 8:22. I’d written, “Do you consider yourself a disciple? What radical demands is God making of you? Are you carrying them out? Are you willing to meet His radical demands?”

 

A few years earlier, I had started praying in a new way. Instead of asking God to help me do His will, I asked Him to make me willing to do His will.

 

There’s a difference.

 

I prayed according to Philippians 2:13, “It is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purposes” (NIV).

 

In other words, God first helps me want to please Him. Although I play a role in becoming willing, I don’t have to work it up all on my own. And then, He helps me to do it!—to carry out His “good purposes.”

 

I’m so glad that verse is in the Bible because countless times I've been unwilling. Like Moses, I’ve wailed, “Oh, Lord, please send someone else” (Exodus 4:13).

 

By the time our Boeing 747 lifted off U.S. soil, I was probably at 9.5 (on a willingness scale of 1 to 10). I was not at a perfect 10—I was scared (willingness does not eliminate fear) and I hated to leave my kids (willingness does not erase a mother’s longing to stay connected to her kids), but I was willing enough to set out.

 

How did that happen? Looking back now, I realize my heart held a tender little spot inside—sort of like a Hostess Cup Cake with a soft, sweet blob inside.

 

Or like hard candy with a gooey glob in the middle.

 

Or like one of those chocolate confections that you bite into, and everything is moving in slow motion, and soft music is playing, and behold! The rich, creamy center oozes out. (Oh, I’m certain that in heaven, chocolate will have no calories!)

 

But wait—I’m getting off the subject. That tender little spot in my heart occupied the space between (a) my unwillingness and (b) the sweet willingness that smiles and says, “Here I am, send me!” (Isaiah 6:8). That soft, gooey little place protected and nurtured my willingness to be made willing.

 

God met me there. With His gentle hands, He took hold of my heart—both the hard part and the tender, gooey part hidden in the middle—and everything started to change.

 

My heart didn’t change in an instant.

It didn’t change in a day, or even a week.

The process took time.

 

To paraphrase Donald Miller, it was as if God, the Master Storyteller, said, “Look, I wrote you into My story and I want you to enjoy your place in it.”

 

To put Beth Moore’s words in God’s mouth, it was as if He said to me, “You have a God-thing called destiny, and I’m inviting you to fulfill it with courage and perseverance.” (Esther)

 

And I’m so glad He did! He knew I’d have missed a thousand mindboggling blessings if I had not been willing to move to Africa.

 

What about you? What radical demands has God made of you in the past? Did you wrestled with God, unwilling at first to do a particular thing for Him, only to find out later that you would have missed blessings you now cherish?

 

Or, maybe today is God making radical demands of you. Are you willing to meet them? Or, maybe today God is still waiting for your answer, waiting for you to say, “Here I am. Send me.” How will you answer?