Mission of Church

Recently, a community of around 5,300 residents came together to move a local bookstore — literally one book at a time. On Sunday, nearly 300 people formed a human chain in downtown Chelsea, passing all 9,100 books from Serendipity Books’ original storefront to a new location just a block away. The effort, dubbed a “book brigade,” involved people of all ages linking up along the sidewalk, carefully handing off each book until it reached its new shelf on Main Street.

“It was a practical way to move the books, but it also was a way for everybody to have a part,” said bookstore owner Michelle Tuplin. As titles moved hand to hand, participants chatted about the books: “As people passed the books along, they said ‘I have not read this’ and ‘that’s a good one.’”

Tuplin announced the move in January, and excitement grew quickly. “It became so buzzy in town. So many people wanted to help,” she said. What might have taken much longer with a professional moving company was accomplished in under two hours by the community — with the added achievement of shelving the books alphabetically upon arrival.

Tuplin has owned Serendipity Books since 2017. She employs three part-time staff and has kept the spirit of the store grounded in community since it opened in 1997.

Chelsea, located about 60 miles west of Detroit, is known for its close-knit atmosphere. “It’s a small town and people just really look out for each other,” said Kaci Friss, a bookstore employee and lifelong resident. “Anywhere you go, you are going to run into someone you know or who knows you, and is going to ask you about your day.” Reflecting on the event, Friss added that the brigade reminded her “how special this community is.”

With care, cooperation, and a shared love for stories, Chelsea’s residents turned a routine move into a meaningful celebration of connection.

Possible Preaching Angle:

When people come together for a common cause amazing tasks can be accomplished and society takes notice. Local churches can also give a powerful visual testimony when they come together to serve the community in the name of Jesus.

The UN Refugee Agency says the country of Columbia has hosted 3 million refugees and migrants from neighboring Venezuela. Columbia has also had the second highest number of Internally Displaced Persons, IDPs, in the world. Since 1985, violence and threats from armed groups have caused 6.7 million Columbians to flee their homes and go elsewhere in the country. Almost 20% of Columbia's population have been traumatized by the refugee, migrant or IDP experience. Here's one pastor’s story:

In 1984, Pastor Jose Higinio Licona and his family experienced violent displacement themselves in their hometown. His family owned a 6-acre farm, milked cows, and grew yucca and corn. One evening, when Licona returned from church, he found dozens of uniformed men with guns in his house, nonchalantly sipping his wife's lemonade. They demanded that he join their force. Pastor Jose decided it was time to flee with his family and a few animals. During their flight, they had to sell their animals and food became scarce. They never got their land back. Pastor Licona's current church is small, only about two dozen people. But most of them could report similar stories of loss as IDPs.

Since they were IDPs themselves, Licona's church started helping Venezuelan migrants when they started coming about 4 years ago. They butchered cows and harvested a half ton of yucca. They helped migrants pay rent and apply for temporary protection status. They hosted dinners offering Venezuelan dishes, offered counseling, and shoulders to cry on. They're helping 2,000 Venezuelan migrants who settled in the area. Pastor Jose says helping migrants is instinctive, "How could they not? We are all IDPs!"

This church has given from what little it had. What sacrifice!

This 2024 report claims that "every state is number one in something." For instance, did you know that:

• Colorado tops the list as the most physically active state.
• Idaho ranks as the number one state for home ownership thanks to affordability.
• Kansas has the least number of poor roadways with less than 1% of roads considered unserviceable.
• Louisiana has the highest number of unmarried adults and thus is the best dating state.
• Michigan has the most golf courses and country clubs per capita.
• When it comes to high school graduations, Nebraska leads with an incredible 93.7% of students graduating.
• Pennsylvania has the most licensed hunters per capita, with 20 hunters per square mile.
• You can binge watch your favorite shows much faster in Tennessee, with internet speeds 50 times quicker than the national average.

You can see the results, best and worst for all 50 states here.

Possible Preaching Angle:

This a fun way to set up a sermon on church vision (“our church's greatest strengths”) or spiritual gifts.

Keisha House is a nurse practitioner and assistant director of the Substance Use Disorder Center of Excellence at Rush University Medical Center. House spent an afternoon training a bunch of aspiring professionals in the skills of preventing death from opioid overdose. These included recognizing signs of substance abuse and administering doses of Naloxone, the generic name for Narcan, an agent that can reverse the effects of an overdose.

These would be absolutely essential skills for any healthcare professional to learn, but House’s clients that day were not nurses or doctors. Rather, they were a group of barbers.

“You all are our eyes and ears, in the barbershop,” House told her audience at Larry’s Barber College in the Washington Park neighborhood of Chicago. House stressed to them that their relationship with local clientele made them invaluable partners in the ongoing quest to reduce and eventually eliminate drug overdoses within the black community.

House stressed the importance of learning the visual signs of overdose, because they’re not always consistent with the ways that such overdoses are portrayed in media. Symptoms can include unresponsiveness, constricted pupils, a limp body, and breathing that slows or stops. In 2018, studies showed that opioid overdoses happened all over the city, but the most deaths were clustered in the mostly black and brown neighborhoods.

Health improvement advocates say that Rush’s outreach to barbershops and beauty shops was influenced by a 2017 Illinois law requiring hair stylists, barbers, and cosmetologists to receive domestic violence and sexual assault awareness training. “In the beauty shop, barber shop, it’s a safe haven,” House said. “If we increase the knowledge, the training, the awareness … we’re able to promote positive health behaviors among their customers, where they feel safe.”

Laniah Davis was one of the barber students given free Narcan kits after the day’s presentation, and she’s feeling confident.

David said, “Now that we know this information, we’re able to save a life or two. If it was somebody in my family, I would want someone to help them. So, whether I know them or not … I would see myself jumping into action to do whatever it takes.”

Possible Preaching Angle:

Just as these barbers were given authority to administer life-saving medicine, so are we authorized to act swiftly and boldly to rescue our neighbors from danger and to show God’s love in real-life situations.

When it comes to fulfilling the Great Commission, how can the “1 percent” of Christians who work in professional ministry help the “99 percent” who don’t?

Consider the difference between how frogs and lizards get their food. The frog just sits and waits, and lets the food come to him, while the lizard cannot afford to sit and wait, but must go out into the world.

Pastors are like the frog. They get trained in ministry, join a church staff, and then everyone knows they work full-time to meet spiritual needs. Ministry opportunities come to them.

In contrast, when it comes to ministry and evangelism, lay people are like the lizard. They must learn to hunt by building bridges at work or in neighborhoods, earning a right to be heard, and then winsomely, creatively, prayerfully, courageously proclaiming Christ.

Unfortunately, there are many sad lizards out there who think that to have a ministry, they must act just like frogs. Many ill-equipped laypeople sit under-deployed. Even as hostility toward Christians grows stronger, Christ’s Great Commission mandate has not changed, and a pathway for spreading the gospel remains wide open—as it has since the days of the early church—through personal relationships between believers and nonbelievers who work together.

Church historian Alan Kreider sums up the strategic advantage of the workplace: “What happened was this. Non-Christians and Christians worked together and lived near each other. They became friends.”

This is what makes the workplace so key to the Great Commission. Here believers have daily opportunities to offer living proof—through their actions, attitudes, and words—that the gospel is indeed good news.

Kindness can be addictive and one small gesture can start a chain reaction of kindness according to readers of The Wall Street Journal who have written to the newspaper to tell their story.

Theresa Gale was locking up her church recently after a long day of volunteering when a young woman approached her, asking for water and bus fare. It was late and Gale was alone. But she gave the woman a bottle of water and $15 and offered her a ride to the bus stop.

In the car, the woman asked about the church, and Gale explained that the members believe that they have a duty to help those in need. “Well, you are God to me today,” Gale says the woman responded. “I was touched,” says Gaile said. “It was as if I, too, had received a blessing.”

Possible Preaching Angl e:

“When we act kindly, the systems in our brain associated with reward light up, the same ones active when we eat chocolate. They make us want to do that same awesome thing again.” -Jamil Zaki, associate professor of psychology at Stanford University

When people at Onecho Bible Church talk about “the mission field,” they mean the many places around the world where Christians are sharing the love of Jesus. But sometimes, they’re also talking about a literal field in Eastern Washington, where the congregation grows crops to support the people proclaiming the gospel around the world.

The 74-member church, smack-dab in the middle of a vast expanse of wheat fields, has donated $1.4 million to missions since 1965. They’ve funded wells, campgrounds, and Christian colleges. This year, they want to provide food and shelter to asylum seekers at the US-Mexico border. Brian Largent, Onecho’s volunteer farm manager said, “Being as isolated as we are, it’s our missionaries and this mission field that keeps us very focused worldwide. This church is a very mission-oriented church—always has been.”

The church started with Mennonite migrants in the 1890s and Methodist farmers 20 years before that. But the unique fundraising program started in the 1960s. One of the church elders passed away at age 65 and bequeathed 180 acres to the church. He supported missionary work his whole life and considered that his legacy. He asked Onecho to use his land to continue the work of spreading the gospel.

The church decided it wouldn’t sell the field but would farm it with volunteers. The proceeds from the harvest would fund various missions. The first year, the harvest yielded $5,500. Revenue fluctuates, based on the success of the harvest. In 2021, the field earned $39,000. Last year, it was $178,000. “We just put the seed in the ground,” Largent said. “Then . . . it’s all up to the weather and what God’s going to do to produce the money.”

When George Liele set sail for Jamaica in 1782, he didn’t know he was about to become America’s first overseas missionary. And when Rebecca Protten shared the gospel with slaves in the 1730s, she had no idea some scholars would someday call her the mother of modern missions.

These two people of color were too busy surviving—and avoiding jail—to worry about making history. But today they are revising it. Their stories are helping people rethink a missionary color line. As National African American Missions Council (NAAMC) president Adrian Reeves said at a Missio Nexus conference in 2021, challenging the idea that “missions is for other people and not for us.” African Americans today account for less than one percent of missionaries sent overseas from the US. But they were there at the beginning.

British missionary William Carey is often called the father of modern missions. Adoniram Judson has been titled the first American missionary to travel overseas. But both Liele and Protten predated them.

Former missionary Brent Burdick now believes African Americans are a “sleeping giant” with an important part to play in the proclamation of the gospel. “They have a lot to offer to the world.”

Betty Hodge knows what it’s like to have an unplanned pregnancy. And she knows what it’s like to have the father of the unborn child push for an abortion. She’s been there. But she didn’t seriously consider terminating her pregnancy, because she didn’t feel alone. Hodge said, “Thankfully I had a family that was supportive.” She now works at a pregnancy resource center in Jackson, Mississippi, so she can provide that same support for other mothers in need.

These days, she sees a lot of them. The U.S. Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade (in 2022), allowing the state of Mississippi to pass a law banning all abortions except to save the life of the mother or in cases of rape or incest that have been reported to police. The clinic that gave its name to the Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization case shut down in July. It was the state’s only abortion provider. So, while women may still travel to Florida, New York, or Illinois to terminate a pregnancy, abortion has effectively ended in the Magnolia State.

The state health office estimates this will result in an additional 5,000 babies being born in Mississippi in 2023. The pro-life movement there is eager to celebrate each of these precious lives, but they’re also aware of other upsetting statistics: Mississippi has the highest rate of preterm births—over 30 percent more than the national average. The state has the highest infant mortality rate in the US, with nearly nine of every 1,000 babies dying. And for the infants who live to be toddlers, 28 percent will live in poverty.

Hodge doesn’t shy away from these hard facts. For her, this is part of the work of being pro-life. ... And with the state expecting 5,000 more babies in 2023, she sees an opportunity to put pro-life beliefs into practice and show that Christians care. She said, “If we’re going to say we stand for life, then it’s pertinent for us to stand up and say we don’t just care about the unborn child. As a church, we have an opportunity to make a difference.”

Dilli Lumjel gave his life to Jesus on May 4, 2011, at 1:33 a.m. Earlier that day, he had performed a Hindu funeral service for his father-in-law in a refugee camp in eastern Nepal, where he lived with more than 12,000 other refugees.

As was the custom, Lumjel spent the night at his wife’s uncle’s house. Both of Lumjel’s parents-in-law had recently converted to Christianity. That night he had a vision: His mother-in-law approached him and shared the gospel, stating, “If you enter this house, you have to believe in Jesus.” Then he saw a flash of lightning from heaven and heard a voice saying, “What you are hearing is true; you have to believe.” In the dream, he knelt down crying and committed his life to Jesus.

When he woke up, his face was wet with tears. Lumjel called a local pastor and told him he had had a dream and was now a Christian. The news shocked his family of devout Hindus. He said, “Every­body—my relatives, my wife, sisters—they all woke up asking, ‘What happened to Dilli? Is he mental? He says he’s a Christian!’”

The next day, the pastor explained the gospel to Lumjel and his wife. The two committed their lives to Jesus. A day later, Lumjel began attending a monthlong Bible school in the refugee camp. Then church leaders sent Lumjel out to preach the gospel to other refugees. Several months later, he became a church deacon, then an elder.

One year later, Lumjel arrived in Columbus, Ohio, as part of a massive resettlement of about 96,000 ethnic Nepalis expelled from their home of Bhutan to the United States. There he joined Yusuf Kadariya in pastoring a group of about 35 Bhutanese Nepali families. As more Bhutanese Nepali refugees settled in Columbus and the group brought more people to Christ, the church continued to grow.

Today, Lumjel is a full-time pastor at Emmanuel Fellowship Church in Columbus. On a wintry Sunday morning in December, about 200 people streamed into the sanctuary, greeting one another with a slight bow and “Jai Masih,” meaning “Victory to Christ.”

Possible Preaching Angle:

God is bringing the nations to our neighborhoods here in America and is bringing many to faith in Christ. We can carry out the Great Commission in part by welcoming them with Christian love and sharing the gospel to those with hungry hearts.

Sociologist Robert Woodberry has identified a robust statistical correlation between “conversionary Protestant” missionary activity and the democratization of a country. His conclusion: Areas where Protestant missionaries had a significant presence in the past are on average more economically developed today, with comparatively better health, lower infant mortality, lower corruption, greater literacy, higher educational attainment (especially for women), and more robust membership in non-governmental associations.

This was not a popular finding. Even the head of Woodberry’s dissertation committee warned him of the inevitable backlash: “To suggest that the missionary movement had this strong, positive influence on liberal democratization, you couldn’t think of a more unbelievable and offensive story to tell a lot of secular academics.”

But after years of extensive research, Woodberry nevertheless concluded, “Want a blossoming democracy today? The solution is simple—if you have a time machine: Send a 19th-century missionary.”

Possible Preaching Angle:

While Jesus didn’t tell us to go into all the world and make people literate, rich, and democratic, Woodberry’s findings illustrate the overwhelmingly positive influence of missionaries.

When Aaron Köhler tries to talk to people in Cottbus, Germany, about Jesus, church, and faith, he can’t assume they know what he’s talking about. Many in the city near the Polish border don’t know anything about Christianity. Köhler has had people ask him whether Christmas and Easter are Christian holidays, and if so, what they’re about. One time, he talked to someone at a local market who wasn’t familiar with the name Jesus. The person had never even heard it, that they could recall.

“That was crazy for me. In the ‘land of the Reformation,’ in a supposedly ‘Christian country,’ these people don’t even know the basic basics,” said Köhler, who co-pastors a church plant.

According to the most recent data, more than 60 percent of Germans identify as Christian. A little more than a quarter say they have no religion. Zoom in a little closer, though, and stark regional differences emerge. In the western part of the country—which includes Hamburg, Munich, Cologne, and Frankfurt—three-quarters of the population identify as Christian. But in the east, the region that was a Soviet Union satellite state from 1949 to 1990, only a quarter of Germans are Christian, with nearly 70 percent identifying themselves as “nonbelievers.”

Christianity is declining in much of formerly Protestant Europe. But eastern Germany stands out, even compared with other rapidly secularizing nations. Here, large swaths of the population have had no serious contact with Christianity for three generations. Köhler said, “For decades, there was no prayer, no Bible at home, no church attendance. After all these years, people don’t know what they don’t know.”

The regional differences are easily traced to the division of the country after its defeat in World War II. The French, British, and American-controlled sectors in the west merged into the German Federal Republic in 1949. The Soviet-controlled East formed the German Democratic Republic, a socialist state with totalitarian leaders who suppressed religion. The Christian population in East Germany fell from about 90 percent in 1949 to only 30 percent in 1990.

Evangelicalism is now the largest religious demographic in Central America, according to a poll of about 4,000 people in five countries. More than a third of people from Guatemala, Honduras, El Salvador, Nicaragua, and Costa Rica told researchers that they are evangelical, while another 29 percent said they are “nondenominational believers.”

Only about a third of people in the region said they were Catholic—down from about 60 percent in the 1970s. Some scholars have attributed the shift to internal Catholic conflict and the long fallout from the church’s political affiliations on the extreme right and left, along with the disruptions of urbanization.

Evangelical theologian Samuel Escobar, noting the trend in an interview in 2006, said Catholics who moved to Central American cities found empowerment in their evangelical conversion. He said, “Their decision to accept Christ meant a change in patterns of behavior which helped people to reorient their lives.”

In an article in Vice, Brian Merchant argues that the first structure that humans will probably build on the Moon after they have completed building a base there will be a church. Indeed, Christian missionaries and clergymen have built churches in the harshest of climates, whether they be the tropical jungles of Africa or the sun-drenched deserts of Australia.

When the Ross Sea Party of Shackleton's Antarctic Expedition of 1914–1917 landed in Antarctica, among the men was an Anglican priest named Arnold Spencer-Smith. Spencer-Smith set up a small chapel in a dark room in Scott's Hut at Cape Evans. He built an altar with a cross and candlesticks and an aumbry where he reserved the Blessed Sacrament.

Today, there are eight churches in Antarctica. One is an Eastern Orthodox church built of wood in the Russian style. Another is The Chapel of Our Lady of the Snows which is a Catholic church located in a cave in the ice. It is the most southern place of worship of any religion in the world.

Churches have been erected in Antarctica since the 1950s. Extended stays in the region can be an extremely stressful experience for the researchers who often stay separated from their families for months at a time, which is one of the reasons why churches exist in this remote continent.

Possible Preaching Angle:

Living anywhere in the world (or space) is a stressful experience for believers. We need the church to give support, care, connectivity to others, and to center ourselves in worship of Almighty God, creator of heaven and earth.

LifeWay Research surveyed 2,000 Americans who do not attend church on what would draw them to one. Among the findings:

Method Of Invite

51% a personal invitation from a friend or family member

23% a TV commercial

23% a postcard

21% a church member knocking on the door

18% a Facebook ad

Best-selling Muslim author and renowned critic of Islam, Irshad Manji shook the religious world with her ground-breaking and highly acclaimed book The Trouble with Islam Today. Translated into more than 30 languages, Manji writes about the lack of inquiry and freedom of thought and speech that pervades across the entire Islamic world.

In 1972, her devout Muslim family immigrated from East Africa to a suburb of Vancouver, British Columbia, when she was four-years-old. She writes that she came to believe in the basic dignity of every individual not from Islam, but "It was the democratic environment to which my family and I migrated." A couple of years later, her always frugal parents enrolled her in free baby-sitting services at a Baptist church when her mom left the house to sell Avon products door-to-door.

There the lady who supervised Bible study showed me and my older sister the same patience she displayed with her own son. She made me believe my questions were worth asking. The questions I posed as a seven-year-old were simple ones: Where did Jesus come from? When did he live? Who did he marry? These queries didn't put anyone on the spot, but my point is that the act of asking always met with an inviting smile.

She cites another example at her junior high school and her evangelical Christian vice-principal.

[The majority of students] lobbied for school shorts that revealed more leg than our vice-principal thought reasonable. After a heated debate with us, he okayed the shorts, bristling but still respecting popular will. How many Muslim evangelicals do you know who tolerate the expression of viewpoints that distress their souls?

Of course, my vice-principal had to bite his tongue in the public school system, but such a system can only emerge from a consensus that people of different faiths, backgrounds, and stations ought to tussle together. How many Muslim countries tolerate such tussle? I look back now and thank God I wound up in a world where the Quran didn't have to be my first and only book.

A fistful of black letters flicker atop the pale-yellow background. The sign is broken, but few care. Because they are broken too. There is a place, like God and grandmother’s house, where the door is always open. You may find better food elsewhere, but you won’t find better food for the money. They have a menu, though I have never needed it.

When you sit down at the table or the bar you will likely be greeted by someone who calls you “honey,” or “sugar,” or “baby,” or sometimes “boss.” But you will be greeted, and usually with a smile. And by someone who knows what it means to work long and hard for very little.

Some of them are working their way through college. Some of them are single parents trying to pay the rent and keep the lights on at home. Some are ex-cons trying to hold down a job by wiping tables and desperately trying to believe the rumors of second chances.

On any given day there might be a family of five seated near you with three small children scarfing down jellied toast and scrambled eggs. They’re here because the food is cheap and sometimes dad doesn’t want mom to have to cook after working twelve hours at the shirt factory. On one side of you will be three bikers and a war veteran swapping stories. On the other side will be an elderly couple who come every Thursday night. They come just to hear the voices. Their own kids have long since stopped visiting, and they’ve already buried all of their other friends.

It doesn’t matter what you’ve done or where you’ve come from, you are welcome here. Strait-laced or strung out, drunk or sober or in that fuzzy place in between. In blue jeans, a business suit, or pajamas. No one is turned away.

Waffle House may not be a church, but many of our churches could stand to learn a few things about open arms and second chances from this wild, wayside diner.

Some come with track marks from years of drug abuse. Others come with children in tow. Some are struggling through a bad week. Others, a bad decade. All bring their dirty laundry. They wash it and dry it for free at church-run laundry services throughout the United States. “Christ said we should feed the hungry and clothe the naked, and I think those clothes should be clean,” said Catherine Ambos, a volunteer at one such ministry in New Brunswick, New Jersey.

Churches have been washing clothes across the US since at least 1997, when a minister at First United Methodist Church of Arlington, Texas, started doing a circuit around the city’s coin-operated laundries, passing out change. There may well have been others before this. Today, these ministries exist across the country, run by churches of all traditions and sizes.

Belmont Baptist Church in Charlottesville, Virginia, has one of the older laundromat ministries still running. The church started helping people clean their clothes in 2010, when pastor Greg Anderson heard through another ministry that poor people in homeless shelters and long-term-stay motels would regularly throw away their clothes.

Anderson said, “It was just easier to go and get new clothes at a clothing-center type of ministry as opposed to being able to launder them.” The church decided to install five washers and dryers in a building on its property and open a laundromat. Today, volunteers estimate that they save people upwards of $25,000 per year. This is money they didn’t have, or if they did, they could now spend on food, gas, or medicine.

19.25 million US households are without a washing machine.

38% of US households earn less than $50,000 per year.

As a child, Juliet Liu Waite and her sisters would plead with their aunt to tell them the story of their escape from Saigon, South Vietnam. The story begins in the family home on the night of April 30, 1975. The family had just finished dinner when a loud explosion blew out the windows at the back of the house. The Fall of Saigon and the end of the 20-year-long war in Vietnam had begun.

Juliet’s grandmother had worked for 20 years as a translator for the US Department of Defense. Her American boss had assured her, “Don’t worry. We won’t leave without you. We’ll make sure you are taken care of.” But she had not heard from him in days. She did not know that he had already left the country, leaving her and her family behind without even a telephone call.

Juliet writes:

Now, with her family sprawled across the floor, their ears ringing from the blast, my grandmother decided: “It’s time to go.” Each packed a small bag of essential items. Outside the house, bombs were exploding, taking down shops, houses, and people. They ducked low, making their way from ditch to ditch, crawling toward the airport. It took them all night.

At dawn the family arrived at the airport security gates. Her grandmother showed her papers to the guards, telling them her boss’ name, saying that he had promised to get them out. The guard shook his head. “I’m sorry. Your name isn’t on this list.” The grandmother begged, “Please! I worked for the Americans. They will kill us all.” Her grandmother grabbed the gold jewelry and small items of value she had taken from the house. “Please,” she said. “Take all of this.” The guard took all of it, then let them through the gate.

Juliet writes,

My grandparents and uncles urged the girls to get on the first available chopper. “No!” my aunties and my mother cried. “We cannot separate!” But my grandfather insisted. “You cannot wait! We will be right behind you!” They finally agreed. In the chaos, my grandparents did not see which chopper they boarded, though they were pretty sure it was the one they were watching. Suddenly, the helicopter exploded as a missile tore through it. My grandparents looked on in horror, believing that they had just lost the four young women.

It would be another two weeks before they discovered they had been mistaken; the girls had boarded a different helicopter. The family waited for the following helicopters to bring their parents, but as they waited, no familiar faces appeared. Turning to strangers, they asked, “Please! We cannot find our parents!” People shook their heads. Some murmured that not all of the helicopters had made it. My mother and her sisters wept.

They boarded a ship that carried the women to Guam where one of my aunties stumbled across my grandfather. It was a miracle they found each other amid the chaotic crowds. When the whole family was reunited, they were overwhelmed at the mystery of this blessing. Eventually the family began to prosper. How had had the family’s story ended so well?

Far away, at a small Baptist church in Lafayette, Indiana, some Christians were convinced that God’s heart was for those nobody wanted. Together, they committed to sponsoring a refugee family. They raised money, found housing, and provided clothing and furniture to a strange family from a foreign land.

My mother’s family knew nothing about Jesus or the church when they lived in Vietnam. But they encountered a generosity they had never witnessed. “It wasn’t just the money and the things they provided,” my mother would say. “We saw in these people a kindness we had never seen before.”

This is also my story. I grew up knowing that I existed because a group of people believed that a merciful God was asking them to show mercy to those who needed it. I grew up knowing that this was a God worth trusting.

Editor’s Note: Juliet Liu Waite is now a co-pastor at Life on the Vine, a church in the Chicago suburbs.

Global missions expert Paul Borthwick remembers living in Boston after the Boston Marathon terrorist bombings of April 2013. Most people were suspicious of Muslims in their community. Borthwick says,

I was traveling from Boston Logan airport about two weeks after the bombing. As I stood at the gate waiting for my flight, I noticed a young woman standing very much alone at her newspaper stand. She wore the hijab head covering of a conservative Muslim woman. I sensed that the Lord wanted me to speak to her. I approached her and greeted her with “As-salaam alaikum,” the Arabic greeting that means “Peace be onto you.” The woman burst into tears.

I immediately thought I had insulted her or said something wrong or pronounced a word incorrectly. I apologized and asked what I had said wrong. She said, “No, what you said was perfect. I’m crying because I’ve been standing here over two weeks now since the Boston Marathon bombing, and you are the first person who has even spoken a word to me.”

Her name was Aisha. Borthwick concluded, “How will someone like Aisha ever know God’s love if everyone in our community avoids her?”