On June 6, 2023 on a late afternoon my family and I arrived at a truck stop located outside of the city of Joplin. We have made it our usual stop for a snack break and a bathroom stop for the past couple of years. What is also significant is that this is one of the first truck stops seen when arriving in Missouri on Interstate 44 and one of the last ones seen while driving on Interstate 44 leaving Missouri to Oklahoma. And ever since December 2008 with an intensity that began March 2019 and hasn’t ebbed any, two significant things happen to me (and also to my wife, but I won’t steal her thunder so I will only testify on my behalf): as I see the mile markers indicate I am getting closer to Missouri (from Oklahoma), my heartbeat increases (and it isn’t the caffeine pill that I took) and when leaving Missouri back to Oklahoma my heart literally breaks, the feeling as if a loved one just passed away. The second thing is a voice from God telling me, “you’re home”. As my truck turns northward on Interstate 49 (old highway 71), the intensity increases with each mile north until it almost becomes deafening when I reach Liberty with a choice of Cameron (and eventually Chillicothe) or St. Joseph with God’s hand upon that. No amount of caffeine is keeping me up and going. No music isn’t keeping me awake. Even my family sometimes go quiet with a need to sleep when we leave Liberty. What propels me each and every mile is that one thing: God’s vision and destiny (not for my life, but through my life for others).
I preface the above word picture to what God dealt with me tonight. I am not saying that tonight was a unique experience and never felt or heard God’s voice until now. I am not saying that Pastor Rubi’s Wednesday-night's conference sermon didn’t help fan the flames that were already there; if anything his sermon set my gaze like flint. And I am not saying that God hadn’t dealt with me nor hadn’t spoken to me while in Missouri the past several days; He certainly was. But what God spoke to me tonight (again), as He led me to pull up my Bible to my favorite prophet in the Bible (second only to Jesus), is found in Jeremiah 1 verse 11 with me inserting my name in place of Jeremiah’s, “Robert, what do you see?”
And what did/do I see? If you are any bit of a follower of my writings, you are keenly aware my Calling and heart are set for Missouri to establish a mother church and send out workers to Missouri, Iowa, and maybe even Kansas (anyone who is from Missouri knows the little comments and feelings about Kansas). So it wasn’t as if the lights came on after all this time for me to realize “there is a need here” while driving through various towns and cities on the western side of Missouri (and not forgetting and ignoring the needs in other cities such as Jefferson City, Springfield, etc.). I was lambasted that need severely March 2019 so strongly that it hasn’t changed or diminished any at all. To be further honest, it took effort lately (the last couple of trips north) for me to not get out of my truck with no amplification or flyers/tracts to hand anyone to direct them to a church and preach on a street corner and to pray and lead people to know the Savior whom changed my life can indeed not give them a religion or make them feel better but can truly change their lives in a very profound and personal way.
So what did I see? I saw a young man working at a Casey’s in Chillicothe who needed something more to look forward to then to work his long shift and go home. I read (in the newspaper) and see people in St. Joseph that I so desperately wished I was there (it took more effort this trip to even want to come back to Kingsville because I so much wanted to give my life…even to my dying breath and last dollar spent to see people won to Jesus) to shepherd them. I never felt Jesus’ powerful compassion for myself as He did for Jerusalem that I do for that city. It is a city with a population of 76,000+ people, slowly dwindling population to Kansas City area despite me seeing homes and dwellings being constructed, and a stagnant but trying economy. Anyone who lives or lived in or near St. Joseph look at me as if I am nuts that I would dare want to rush into the fiery house (speaking metaphorically) called St. Joseph to declare to my family and strangers alike: Jesus loves you and wants to change your life. I saw city after city of people living life as they have and perhaps even their parents lived; that only a better life is elsewhere if one could be motivated enough to leave the familiar.
What did I see? I see people making decisions—small and large—even to a point of playing games with God and their salvation who are content with life. Yet I can list 20+ cities without skipping a beat in Missouri and another 5+ in Iowa that do NOT have a Fellowship church. Thousands of people are dying every year and going straight to hell, but we’re busy with our life, building our ministry, building our nest egg. And God help us if we ever truly utter this, but mentally we have accepted and even open the door to the fiery grave to say “it’s ok for you to go to hell” because we declare that we are too busy with our PlayStation/Xbox, our job, our children’s plans, when I have enough in my church, let someone else do it who is closer or who’s been out more or longer go while I keep this couple longer near me.
That is what I see. What do you (yes, you) see? Is it the woman at the grocery store who is looking forward to her shift ending? Is it the man on the corner holding a cardboard sign? Is it a youth in our class? Is it someone who shares to us or within earshot of their hopeless plans tonight or the previous night while we have the living hope? Is it the person sitting next to us in church who hasn’t fully committed their life to Jesus? Is it the young man sitting behind the check-in counter at the motel?
Could God, as He did to Jeremiah, interrupt our life and life’s plans for moments to declare God’s word, to be an ear for a hurting person, to offer comfort from the Bible, to testify what Jesus did in our lives? What if the listener walks away? What if we’re mocked? What if we’re labeled? What if what we say seems to make no impact at that immediate moment? What if it offends (in a Godly way, not in a rude Pharisee way)? What if it means a loss for me for a gain for someone else? But what if they get saved because we responded and went? What if she (a single mother) takes herself and child now to church? What if a soldier or vet becomes a soldier for Christ? What if that man becomes the catalyst for thousands to know Jesus Christ? And what if that woman becomes the only catalyst for that woman breathing her final unsaved breaths in a nursing home or hospital?
What do you see?