I was in a 12-hour train ride to Jakarta a few days before Hari Raya. I knew from the beginning that choosing to ride the train instead of riding a plane was a big mistake. Why? Because I can't sleep unless I'm lying down comfortably with my arms wrapped around a bolster pillow. But the adventurous side of me won over my practical side. I convinced myself that riding a train would be more challenging. I told myself that this train ride would be special. God knew that it couldn't have been closer to the truth.
The first two hours were not so hard. I left Surabaya at about 5pm so it was hours before my "bedtime". I tried to keep myself busy by reading a book on child-rearing. As it neared the hour for sleeping, I started to feel uneasy. I didn't know how to position myself. I turned to the left, I turned to the right but nothing seemed perfect. Fortunately, the seat beside me was empty. So I could stretch my legs as far as I could. But then, it was not the same as "lying down" so I still couldn't sleep. The constant shaking and "chugging" of the train added to my discomfort.
Around 2 AM, I started to drift off to sleep. It was not the deep, restful sleep that I longed for but still it was sleep. So I was thankful. But about an hour later, it felt like I was dreaming. I heard people shouting and crying... I woke up. It turns out that the train has stopped at one of the stations in Java Island and the voices that I heard were the voices of the vendors peddling their goods.
I heard their cries... I was annoyed...
These people woke me up from the precious sleep that I've been longing for. I was complaining in my heart, thinking terrible things about these people... But then I heard God's still, small voice saying to me, "Listen closely, my daughter". I didn't know what God meant so I just kept quiet. I couldn't figure out what God wanted me to see. I felt deeply bothered in my spirit. After a few minutes, it all became clear...
The cries that I heard were not just the cries of ordinary people peddling their goods. They were the cries of people hungry for life. People who were lost but had no one to guide them. People who were thirsty but had no one to tell them where the fountain of life is. I felt deep conviction in my heart. I felt really convicted...Big time.
I was on my way to Jakarta to visit Mahanaim Foundation. I wanted to learn how to "minister" to people, to learn how to reach out to the lost. But when God put me face to face with the "harvest", my automatic reaction was annoyance, not compassion. I was more concerned about my sleep than I was of these people who were "dying". I felt so ashamed of myself. There was nothing else to do but cry. My heart cried out to God for forgiveness. I asked him to forgive me for being so superficial in my motive to serve. I only chose opportunities of service that were convenient for me. I know that God deliberately woke me up from my sleep to show me that I am daily surrounded with people who are in need of Jesus' love. But most of the time, I don't even give them my attention.
Why are we doing the things that we're doing? Is it because of our love for God or is it because doing them makes us feel better? That simple encounter with the "common people" made me realize that my motives were not always pure. A part of me was serving God not because of my love for Him, but because of my selfish motives. Every day I pray for opportunities to serve Him, and every day He answers my prayer. He daily surrounds me with opportunities to show compassion to people who are in desperate need of the truth... I just don't see them 'cause I am so busy looking out for the seemingly "better" opportunities.
Let's examine our hearts and answer this question every time we do ministry ...
"Why am I doing what I'm doing?"