The thoughts of mountains, beaches, big cities, a foreign countryside, unprecedented smells, unseen sights, and new friends waiting to be met swirled in my mind to form a concoction of one desire: adventure.
Stepping on the plane to Southeast Asia, I was confident this was waiting for me on the other side of the terminal. And truth be told, I wasn’t completely wrong. We climbed mountains, convened on beaches, hopped on “motos,” meandered city streets, sipped on cappuccinos with new friends, and consumed all new flavors. Those “momentous” moments were exciting blips in our experience, but they were only pieces our normal routine overseas.
Day-to-day life was, for the majority, startlingly similar to life in the States.
We cooked breakfast, went to school, shopped for groceries, waited for our Uber driver, folded laundry, ate around the dinner table, and tried to go to bed at a reasonable hour to do it all over again. The romanticized, “bigger-than-life,” idea of missions I had in my mind faded day-by-day as we lived normal lives in a foreign context.
I wrestled with the loss of my expectation for the extraordinary during our trip. I was unconvinced that life would settle into a sense of ordinary … until it did. It was at the death of my expectation for a fun and “experiential” view of international missions that Christ opened my eyes to see His utmost glory and my joy in the seemingly mundane moments of life.
On a cool morning we were strolling through a neighborhood when met a woman who gathered us into her home to learn about her belief in Hinduism. In light of her belief, we told her of Jesus and the grace of a God that loves her and sacrificed His Son for her despite her brokenness. It was as the mid-morning sunlight trickled into her darkened living room that it hit me.
Perhaps living on mission is gloriously mundane.
Living rooms, porches, coffee shops, kitchen tables, and backyards—these places that are well worn and well known are where missions take place. It is in the moments that feel common, filled with conversation and simple obedience, that people are encountered by Christ. It was once I realized the beauty of the gospel outshines the lures of adventure up mountaintops and across oceans that I truly began treasuring the gospel being shared, rather than where I would get to go to share it.
The idea that a glorious God—full of grace and wonder—could be shared and believed by a heart that had never heard of Him in the familiarity of their own home completely bewildered me. In sharing the gospel, I found the true adventure I’d been searching for in extraordinarily ordinary moments.
Much like sunlight finding its way to a darkened living room—mundane, yet glorious.