Mere Missions

J esus I s L ord : E ndearment • 33

challenged by the book that I had to know more about the author. I looked on the jacket cover and read about World Impact, “a nationwide, interdenominational discipling ministry that seeks to bring God’s love to the ghettos of America.” There it was. As clear as clear could be. The Holy Spirit revealed the next phase of my journey as a young twenty-one-year-old disciple of Jesus. “The ghettos of America!” But wait! I didn’t know much about the ghetto (old school word meaning ‘isolation’) but what I did know didn’t seem like the right fit. “Lord are you sure about this?” “Did I hear your still small voice correctly?” “I’m 5’9 . . . and-a-half!” “I weigh 118 pounds!” My strongest drug was orange flavored children’s aspirin. My mom was the “drug dealer” in our home and she only dispensed of the powerful orange drug sparingly. My strongest drink was Dr. Pepper “on the rocks.” I don’t play basketball (my vertical was about two inches). The only incarceration experience I had was being confined to my room when I got into trouble as a child. There must be a mistake. But the Lord doesn’t make mistakes or accept excuses. It is not what I think, but what He says. Jesus is Lord and all He requires is that I trust Him (Prov. 3.5-6). His ways are not my ways, and neither are His thoughts my thoughts (Isa. 55.8). He expects obedience. As Dietrich Bonhoeffer said, “The one who believes, obeys, and the one who obeys, believes” ( The Cost of Discipleship ). My only response must be, “Yes Lord!” Upon graduation, my roommate, Steve Long, and I rode bicycles from Upland, Indiana, to Lake Tahoe (2,121 miles), which is along the state line of California and Nevada. We spent the summer evangelizing with CRU. After an incredible summer I made my way to Los Angeles and through some remarkable circumstances found my way to World Impact for a three-day interview and ministry exposure. The first day, I was with a World Impact urban missionary who was making a home visit in Imperial Courts Housing Projects in South Central, home of the PJ Watts Crips. To say the least, I was completely out of my comfort zone.