Nothing Like A Little Reality

A friend-of-a-friend lies in a nursing home. She’s less than fifty, and poor decisions have landed her here. Hospice has been called in, and her days are numbered. Nothing like reality to reach up and grab your attention. I know her…or I knew her once. I’m afraid what I once knew is no longer now replaced by emptiness and heartache. Through God’s grace, she will not die alone. The very actions that Jesus would take are being lived out in the life of another – and while there is much to be learned from that, my heart right now prays that she truly loves Jesus. That she somehow can experience His love through the care of another, and that she indeed will be embraced by the Lord in days ahead.

Nothing like a little reality to reach up and grab your attention.

Nearly ten years ago, my husband Travis and I along with our two children packed up our bags and filled up the boxes before moving to a rural area about 50 minutes away. Travis had continued to farm with his father even though he lived in the city for a season and with two young children we were (mostly) ready to move closer. After looking for an acreage for several years, we had finally found one that we couldn’t say no to that was in close proximity to my husband’s family farm. There were a handful of things that we weren’t expecting when we made that move. Things like not having access to any good internet options or how gravel absolutely destroys tires at a much faster rate than we were used to. One of the things that we were utterly surprised by – and still find hard to believe – is that there aren’t any vibrant churches in our area. So, we’ve driven to church for the past ten years. And, that drive has taken anywhere from 25 minutes to 445 minutes depending on the direction we’ve gone.

Not so long ago my husband Travis and I met with Scott the associate superintendent of our conference. As we talked through the ministry ups and downs of the past year, my husband sort of mused out loud asking if there might be someone who could come plant a church in our area since we continue to drive long distances to meet corporately with other believers. We knew Scott was passionate about planting churches, but we didn’t expect him to look squarely at Travis and say, “You and Julia are the right people to plant a church.”

Nothing like a little reality to reach up and grab your attention.

After Travis and I exchanged looks of surprise, we began to discuss the possibility. We had met with Scott about a year and a half before this meeting, and since then Travis had gone through an internship of sorts with our pastor who had previously taught a preaching class in seminary. They had met bi-weekly so that Travis could learn to preach. And, he had learned to preach! I may be a bit biased, but I think he does a fantastic job of exegeting a passage and then translating it into modern day language and principles. I also like that he learned a different style of preaching than my Gordon Conwell brand, so we compliment each other well.

While Travis had learned to preach, I had learned to sit on the sidelines. I had really wanted to jump in and get involved, but the opportunity just wasn’t there. So, for the most part, Travis got more and more involved and my ministry had moved from inside the church to outside. There were days when this was incredibly difficult, but purposeful, I am sure.

So, a lot had changed since we met with Scott 18 months ago. And as we started to think through that, we could see the wisdom in beginning an experimental phase of a local church plant – even while we are scared silly and think we might be crazy.

It’s harvest here in Minnesota. The leaves on the corn have crumpled up into a dry shade of yellowish brown. The dust blows endlessly. And, the combines, tractors and semitrucks have been taken out of their quiet sheds to showoff as the harvest is collected. I stood in the field on the family farm last night watching my husband and son combine the soybeans. Far off in the distance was the Green Isle water tower.

Nothing like a little reality to reach up and grab your attention.

As I consider my friend’s friend who lies in bed, slowly losing her life, our recent church planting conversations, and staring at that watertower, the three categories of thought crashed together and suddenly the urgency to share the Gospel was heavy on my heart. There I stood looking at the fields that were ripe for harvest. There I stood contemplating life and death. There I stood staring at the Green Isle watertower which somehow felt very symbolic. And my prayer has become: “Lord of the harvest, send out workers into this harvest field.” (9:37b-38).