It's really funny how God works, or at least I think it's ironic at times.
Today, I was sitting in a class about missions to Africa. Yes, this is the Africa we always see on TV with starving people, lions eating antelopes, elephants, and all that. We were learning about the country of Botswana. And truth be told, I was paying attention. I wasn't thinking about anything else, or goofing off. I was paying whole hearted attention.
And the professor said something, and for about 5 minutes, it drew my focus away from the entire class. I couldn't tell you what he said, or anything. My focus was totally taken away from Africa.
We were talking about being a missionary to a third world country. And how it'd be hard to live in an area filled with all kinds of sicknesses, disease, dearth, and all that fun stuff. Prof. Hall said something about how: “You all might end up in third world countries; well, except for you in Spain; they're right up there with the USA.” (In reference to me)
And I don't know how to really describe what happened at that moment, but something just...I guess the word would be clicked. Or a light came on. Something. My eyes were opened? I can’t say for sure. But God did something in my life.
And I think about Spain a whole, whole lot. I have a Spanish flag hanging above my bed, a map of Spain in the living room, a Spanish license plate in my car, and a bumper sticker of the Spanish flag on my car, and all kinds of football (that's soccer) jerseys from Spain in my closet. I dare say that no matter where I go, red and yellow is following me close behind.
And I guess that the best way to say it would be this: I started thinking about Spain not as a country, a mass of land, the place where, Lord willing, I'll spend a good portion of my adult life, or anything like that.
For the first time, I started thinking about it as 45 million people living together under one flag. (Though the Catalan and Basque folks might say otherwise...)
I thought about it as 45 million people, going through life, laying down to bed at night, turning their lamps off, and going to slumber for the next morning. And as 45 million people. 45 million pairs of eyes looking around. 45 million hearts beating. 45 million voices screaming. 45 million minds thinking. 45 million Spaniards, and few to none of them have Jesus Christ as a Saviour.
And all of a sudden, it seems a lot more urgent that someone, anyone, take them the gospel. For a brief moment, I couldn't think about anything else. The Gypsies, the Catalans, the Basque inhabitants, the Spaniards, the poor and the rich. They're all living in darkness.
Though they physically live in a first world country, and have many luxurious things, they're all spiritually homeless.
I don't know how else to communicate it. There are 45 some odd million people, all living with nice things, with fancy cars, classy soccer jerseys, cool cell phones, and all these great things. But almost no one has Jesus Christ as their personal Saviour. Almost none of them will enter into heaven.
I don't know the exact number of saved, born again Spaniards, but I know there aren't many. I know that Spain's had a rough "religious" history, with the inquisition, and then Franco’s reign, and now a sweeping wave of atheism is drowning the Spaniards.
I wonder if Pastor Gardner ever felt like this about Peru, or Dean Hamby like this about the Ivory Coast. Did Jonathan Goforth feel like this about the Chinese? Can you really describe a burden with words? Or is it something that can only be described through action?
I mean, I'm 19 years old. I've never been to Spain, or any part of Europe. And here I sit, with thoughts of the Spanish people, my mind drifting across the Atlantic Ocean.
I find it very ironic that the Lord picked a time set aside to learn about a third world country to open my eyes, more than ever before, about a first world country.
Today, I was sitting in a class about missions to Africa. Yes, this is the Africa we always see on TV with starving people, lions eating antelopes, elephants, and all that. We were learning about the country of Botswana. And truth be told, I was paying attention. I wasn't thinking about anything else, or goofing off. I was paying whole hearted attention.
And the professor said something, and for about 5 minutes, it drew my focus away from the entire class. I couldn't tell you what he said, or anything. My focus was totally taken away from Africa.
We were talking about being a missionary to a third world country. And how it'd be hard to live in an area filled with all kinds of sicknesses, disease, dearth, and all that fun stuff. Prof. Hall said something about how: “You all might end up in third world countries; well, except for you in Spain; they're right up there with the USA.” (In reference to me)
And I don't know how to really describe what happened at that moment, but something just...I guess the word would be clicked. Or a light came on. Something. My eyes were opened? I can’t say for sure. But God did something in my life.
And I think about Spain a whole, whole lot. I have a Spanish flag hanging above my bed, a map of Spain in the living room, a Spanish license plate in my car, and a bumper sticker of the Spanish flag on my car, and all kinds of football (that's soccer) jerseys from Spain in my closet. I dare say that no matter where I go, red and yellow is following me close behind.
And I guess that the best way to say it would be this: I started thinking about Spain not as a country, a mass of land, the place where, Lord willing, I'll spend a good portion of my adult life, or anything like that.
For the first time, I started thinking about it as 45 million people living together under one flag. (Though the Catalan and Basque folks might say otherwise...)
I thought about it as 45 million people, going through life, laying down to bed at night, turning their lamps off, and going to slumber for the next morning. And as 45 million people. 45 million pairs of eyes looking around. 45 million hearts beating. 45 million voices screaming. 45 million minds thinking. 45 million Spaniards, and few to none of them have Jesus Christ as a Saviour.
And all of a sudden, it seems a lot more urgent that someone, anyone, take them the gospel. For a brief moment, I couldn't think about anything else. The Gypsies, the Catalans, the Basque inhabitants, the Spaniards, the poor and the rich. They're all living in darkness.
Though they physically live in a first world country, and have many luxurious things, they're all spiritually homeless.
I don't know how else to communicate it. There are 45 some odd million people, all living with nice things, with fancy cars, classy soccer jerseys, cool cell phones, and all these great things. But almost no one has Jesus Christ as their personal Saviour. Almost none of them will enter into heaven.
I don't know the exact number of saved, born again Spaniards, but I know there aren't many. I know that Spain's had a rough "religious" history, with the inquisition, and then Franco’s reign, and now a sweeping wave of atheism is drowning the Spaniards.
I wonder if Pastor Gardner ever felt like this about Peru, or Dean Hamby like this about the Ivory Coast. Did Jonathan Goforth feel like this about the Chinese? Can you really describe a burden with words? Or is it something that can only be described through action?
I mean, I'm 19 years old. I've never been to Spain, or any part of Europe. And here I sit, with thoughts of the Spanish people, my mind drifting across the Atlantic Ocean.
I find it very ironic that the Lord picked a time set aside to learn about a third world country to open my eyes, more than ever before, about a first world country.
--Pray for Spain. Pray that the Lord would raise up missionaries and native Spaniards to take the gospel to the millions of lost souls in Spain.--
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