GraceFox

Picture approximately 35 people ages 6 to 66 stuffed into a living room. Outside temperatures soar to nearly 100 degrees. The air conditioner struggles to make a difference, and sweat trickles.

One fellow plays guitar; another plays keyboard. One worship song rolls into another. Our North American team cannot understand the Romanian lyrics, but occasionally we recognize the tune and sing along in English. This must be a tiny taste of what heaven will be like.

I look around the room and see young people facing incredible challenges. And yet, despite those challenges, several close their eyes and raise their hands as they sing. They’re lost in worship. They shut out pain for the evening and focus on Jesus, their hope.

When the time comes for me to share a message, one of our career staff stands beside me and translates.
The words that I believe God wants me to speak deal with overcoming fear (surprise, surprise). This time I tell the story about David and Goliath as the basis. We read the Scriptures and discover the giant’s size and character. We learn about the negative voices that questioned David’s ability to fight the enemy. And we see David’s courageous response, rooted in his knowledge of God’s character and faithfulness.

The North American team members take turns being honest about fears they struggle with, and the kids listen intently. Then it’s their turn to talk. My heart breaks when one young man speaks up. “I’m afraid to die,” he blurts. This fellow, age 25, obviously “gets” this message.

I send an arrow prayer to heaven: God, give me the right words. I told him that I fear death, too. Actually, I don’t fear death itself because I know I’ll spend eternity in heaven thanks to what Jesus has done. No, death itself isn’t a scary thing for me, but I fear the process. The young man stares intently at me as I speak. I desperately want him to understand, so I tell a couple of personal stories related to death and dying.

My father passed away three years ago. Shortly before he died, he made comments about seeing Jesus waiting for him. No doubt, God’s presence was real to my dad as his life on earth came to an end.

My best childhood girlfriend moved to heaven three weeks ago. When I visited her a week before she passed away, she said, “I have peace.” On her wall hung a plaque with song lyrics burned into it: “He lives, He lives, Christ Jesus lives today. He walks with me and talks with me along life’s narrow way…” I tell the kids how God’s presence was real to my friend in her last days on earth, too. And I assure them that when death comes knocking, God will be with them, too, if they know Jesus.

The lesson time draws to a close and discussion ends. I leave the room feeling overwhelmed with gratitude at the opportunity to share God’s Word and hope with these precious young people. How many more are there just like them in this country? I’m not sure anyone really knows. Someone estimates 30,000 in western Romania alone.

Thirty thousand children, teens, and young adults who need to hear the Gospel of Jesus Christ and find hope in the midst of their desperate situation. “The harvest is plentiful but the laborers are few” has taken on new meaning.