What happens when you wait on God....

So since the Wesslers are all about candid honesty today, I thought it only appropriate to give an update on how it's been coming back. I mean, how it's really been.

Before I do that, I'm going to add to Luke's list of things missionaries won't tell you but we'll tell you anyway. We are not superheroes.  We hosted a team last year that likened our missionaries to members of The Avengers. It was encouraging (humbling), but the only superhero talent I possess is knowing exactly what size tupperware I need for the amount of leftovers we have. (Ask my husband - I'm a champ). We are not more righteous or holy than you. We do not have an amazing channel to God that enables us to know exactly His will in every situation and He hasn't spoken to us through any burning bushes (yet?). We even go through times when we feel He isn't hearing our cries. Seriously.  *cue current favorite song* In fact, I think it's knowing our own brokenness and sin and desperate need for Jesus that makes us passionate about sharing who He is and what He did with the world (and we don't even do that very well sometimes). We're not here because we're awesome. We're here because He's awesome, and willing to use us despite our propensity to pretend we're superheroes and try to do things in our strength and end up walking straight into a wall of kryptonite.

Now that I've put that out there, I'll share a bit of the nitty gritty. As we were preparing to come back, we shared our concerns regarding Michael's health. In my mind, the only reason we wouldn't return is if we didn't feel it was safe for him. Personally, I felt a bit like Abraham. We prayed and prayed and prayed for a child, and who were we to tell God we wouldn't continue His work because we were afraid He couldn't handle Michael's health needs. I never considered that His work for us might not be Sports Friends. Might not be Zambia. Might not be international missions (don't freak out - just keep reading...). So when all the lights flashed green for Michael to come, I started packing bags and booking tickets.

If you know me, you know I'm a bit impulsive and headstrong. I was ready to come back and didn't consider asking Luke how he really felt. In all honesty, we left our first term absolutely burnt out. Exhausted. Hurt. In hindsight, most of my struggle fell around two things - bitterness and unforgiveness with particular individuals (that has since been resolved), and our struggle to conceive (also resolved, obviously). So as I experienced that healing, along with awesome encouragement from a conference last summer, I felt my cup starting to refill. Apparently, Luke was still running on empty. But once I get an idea in my head (the idea that all was well and we were coming "home" to Zambia), there's usually no telling me otherwise.

Fast forward to April, and we arrived back to a lot of work to be done on our house and only a handful of our churches using their training to impact their communities, and it was hard. As I wrote about in my recent blog, I know my calling right now is to support my husband in his calling and care for our family. But when I saw my normally passionate husband in a lonely, depressed schlump, I literally told him, "I'm not convinced this is still your call."

Ouch.

He'd been wondering the same. But I just put it out there and opened the scary, ugly door. Talk about crying out to God.

Over the next several weeks, we cried out. We prayed. We emailed a handful of people that we knew would give us honest responses and prompt critical questions. We considered the options. We asked ourselves and God those critical questions, and even sat down with some of our Zambian brothers and asked the same things. Does Zambia need Sports Friends? Does it need missionaries at all? What is the biggest need of the church here? What is the goal? Are we equipped and called to help meet those needs? And we waited.

Now before you freak out (or jump for joy (sorry Mom)), we're not leaving. At least not now. Had to put that out there before going any further. All that praying, questioning, refocusing... allowed us to do just that - refocus. One night while we were both waiting for responses from some trusted friends, God gave us each, separately, the same new vision for the ministry (still no burning bush, but it was clear nonetheless). I won't go into all the details, as this is already looking more like a book than a blog, but basically, we both woke up knowing that, yes, we're supposed to be here, and exactly how to move forward with Sports Friends in a way that will help to meet discipleship needs of the churches with whom we work and prepare future leaders for service and mission. We'll hash that out more in future letters/posts.

Some might say we wasted our first two months here, dragging our feet to get going. But sometimes in ministry (especially when "reporting" all of "our success" to supporters back home), I think there is a risk of moving forward in the ways we know or want to do things instead of waiting on God. Those weeks of waiting were hard (did I say I'm impulsive?). Really hard. But I wouldn't trade them in. Why? Because we now feel we are moving forward the way He has shown us rather than just doing ministry for the sake of ministry. Because it's His mission, not ours. And because, sometimes, He's doing a mighty work in us while we wait. *cue second song*

Moses spent 40 years in the wilderness before leading the Israelites out of Egypt. Jesus spent 40 days in the desert before starting his earthly ministry. Paul is said to have spent three years in Arabia and Damascus before starting his missionary journeys in Acts 13. So yeah, maybe we needed some extra time on the front end here. But now we're ready. And we can't wait to see how He uses us in this chapter of His story.

In my weakness...

We leave to return to Zambia in four weeks. Four weeks. It sounds so distant, but it is fast approaching, and emotions are running high. We've experienced most of this before - excitement regarding the upcoming travel, sadness over leaving family and friends behind, stress as we wrap up a variety of last-minute details.

But this time it's...different.

When we moved to Zambia in 2010, we were filled with excitement and expectation. Everything we had been working towards since before we started dating in 2004 was finally happening. We were moving overseas - to Africa - to serve as missionaries. We were starting a new life. It was all a great adventure. We were riding on a spiritual and emotional high.

And then things changed. Days, weeks, months went by. That adventure became life. And at times, life was hard. But we had each other, and we had God, and we made it through. What I didn't realize at the time, though, was how much I acted as my own worst enemy, how often I brought myself down, telling myself I wasn't good enough. I wasn't strong enough. I wasn't qualified enough. I was in way over my head. I brought myself so low that, by the end of our first term, I was completely burned out and empty. I needed to come back on Home Assignment.

And I didn't want to go back to Zambia.

I managed to convince myself that I wasn't the right person to lead the ministry in Zambia. I could list off name after name of people I thought could do a better job. People more qualified. People more spiritual. People with more energy, more training, more vision. People with a better relationship with God.

The thing is, I continued to feel this way up until just recently. Even after Tiffany booked our tickets to return, I was convinced that we were only going back by default. We had to go back, because the right people hadn't been found, so we were warm bodies willing to fill in until then. It wasn't until recently that this all began to change.

We were asked to talk about our ministry to the Jr. and Sr. High youth groups at a supporting church. They wanted us to talk about what we do, but more importantly they wanted us to talk about how we got there. How did we know God called us on mission? What steps did we take to get into the field? And it was in reflecting on these questions and preparing for this presentation that I realized that I was actually right. I'm not good enough, or talented enough, or smart enough.

And I'm not supposed to be.

After all, if I were good enough, I wouldn't need God to do the work - His work. Paul knew this and wrote about it in several of his letters, probably most notably in 2 Corinthians 12, where he says in verses 9 and 10,

"But [Jesus] said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong." (ESV)

Paul, this great missionary and leader in the early church, understood that he wasn't good enough. He would never be good enough. And this is what made his ministry so successful, because it kept him from relying upon his own strength and seeking to receive all the glory. Rather, he needed to rely upon Christ for the ability to continue in ministry, and it was Christ who caused the growth, who orchestrated the change, who made the difference, and who received the glory.

As we go back to Zambia, I don't want to be good enough. I want to rely upon Christ. I want to be open and ready to be used by Him, and my "good enough-ness" would stand in His way.

Gratitude

"And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work. As it is written: 'They have freely scattered their gifts to the poor; their righteousness endures forever.' Now he who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will also supply and increase your store of seed and will enlarge the harvest of your righteousness. You will be enriched in every way so that you can be generous on every occasion, and through us your generosity will result in thanksgiving to God." - 2 Corinthians 9:8-11

 

Wow. We have so many reasons to give thanks. So many people for whom to give thanks. So many blessings...

 

In the eight weeks since we've been stateside we've been in nine different states (some of them multiple times), stayed in nine different homes, driven four different cars and ridden in many others, and had a million reasons to say "thank you."

 

So that's just what we want to do. We want to say "thank you" to all of you who have welcomed us back with open arms. Thank you to those who have opened your homes as we've traveled around from place to place. Thank you for offering us rides to and from events. Thank you to those of you who offered your vehicles for our use while we're here. Thank you for the meals you've served us and the tabs you've picked up. Thank you for inviting us to your churches, small groups, and family gatherings. And thank you for listening, asking questions, and caring.

 

And that's just been the last eight weeks! We can't even begin to thank those of you who have stood with us throughout this journey thus far. Some of you have supported us from the very beginning. Thank you. Thank you if you joined in at any point along the way. Thank you to those who faithfully prayed for us throughout the ups and downs of our first term in Zambia. Thank you for your letters, emails, packages, phone calls, and facebook messages. Thank you. Thank you for being open to the Spirit's guidance to give generously, joyfully and abundantly.

 

As we look at the rest of our home assignment and our return to Zambia next spring, we have and will have many more reasons to give thanks. And as much as we thank each of you for responding to God's leading in your lives, your generosity has resulted in thanksgiving to God. We praise and thank God for each of you. We thank Him for your friendship and for blessing you to be a blessing to others. We thank Him for listening to your prayers to Him on our behalf. Specifically, we thank Him for answering our prayers (and many of your prayers as well) that we would be able to conceive. God is so good!

We thank God for His provision, His comfort and His protection. We thank Him most of all for His grace. Without the death and resurrection of His Son Jesus Christ, we would have no reason to serve, to give, to love - and no reason to give thanks. Thank you Lord that we do.

 

And thank you.

Grace - Car Crash Revisited

This has been a long time coming, but I thought I would post some excerpts from my journal shortly after the car accident I was in February 5…

February 7, 2012

“So I think we were talking about running – marathons and ultramarathons and training and injuries and good ol’ runners talk.  I had met Sharrone 30 minutes before as my taxi arrived to meet my ride to Ndola at a gas station on the edge of Lusaka.  Squeezed in the back seat between two booster chairs, I was in charge of holding the portable DVD player while the two young boys looked on from either side of me.  The Watts were heading home after a swim gala and were gracious enough to let me tag along for the ride.  About 10 kilometers or so out of Lusaka on the Great North Road, everything changed.

You know how in books and movies people talk of their ‘life flashing before their eyes’ in accidents and near-death experiences? Well, as the truck flew at us from the tall grass along the edge of the road and impact was made, I just remember closing my eyes and waiting for everything to go still and black.  I thought that was it.  As the car rolled and I heard the crunch of the roof, I was convinced that I was going to lose consciousness and never wake up.

The stillness came, but the pain and blackness did not.  As we rolled to a stop on the passenger side of the car, I was in disbelief that I was okay – and scared to death the kids were not.  But God is good. 

Within moments we all realized what had happened.  Before I knew it, Zambians were standing above us offering to help us out.  I helped unbuckle Sammy and Joel and was the last to climb out – after making a quick desperate search for my phone. And I could still hear the portable DVD player somewhere in the car. Once we were all out, the car was rolled right side up. 

I remember Sharrone telling the onlookers to please not steal from us – as many collected our belongings that were scattered along the roadside and field.  One of the women took it upon herself to comfort the boys while Sharron and Charlie desperately tried to get things under control. We searched for the DVD player to help placate the kids, but it was nowhere to be found. The cooler bag I had disappeared completely, and the contents: apples, carrots, koala crackers and a busted jar o strawberry jam stretched along for 100 meters or so.  I just wanted to find my phone.  Here I was with relative strangers desperate to reach Luke or my parents or someone I knew.  I felt like it was all a weird unreal situation that I mistakenly entered – like a scene in a movie and I was an unscripted ‘extra’ who snuck into the shot. 

My hand was bleeding and shoulder tender, but nothing as bad as it could have been.  We were all safe.  The other driver didn’t even look shaken – dressed in a tie and vest and calm and completely unmoved by the whole situation.  As friends of Sharrone were called from her phone, I kept desperately searching for mine.  I tried to get online from Luke’s computer which was unscathed by the accident, but there was no signal where we were.  I felt so lost – like no one knew where I was and there was no hope.  Sharrone had one contact in her phone that I knew, so we called my friend and she called some others from the mine to let them know what happened.

Eventually, “rescue” rides showed up to take us back to Lusaka and the police came to write reports.  As we gathered all of our belongings from the roadside, the police woman insisted we take everything – even the car CD player, the broken wheels, etc – knowing that the car would be stripped for anything worth anything. 

My ride back to Lusaka happened to be with the Flying Mission director, which was hugely comforting because of his relationship to SIM.  We went to his house and he called our deputy director while his wife fixed up my hand.  One of the couples there was going back to Ndola and I decided to go along.  Their willingness to let me ride, let me use their phones, and then to stay at their house was amazing.  They arranged to take me to the clinic for a checkup the next morning and were incredibly gracious to me – a perfect stranger.  Other friends arranged rides back to Solwezi the next day.  I was so afraid driving – terrified of another accident – and when we almost hit a goat, I think my heart stopped. 

I am back now.  I was able to communicate with mom and then Luke and then our director on the ride to Ndola, and have since been overwhelmed with the outpouring of prayer and support from friends.  One friend brought by a basket of groceries and others called and e-mailed.  Our director even graciously met with the man who found my phone to get it back (who insisted he be paid for his finding).

Most of all, I am overwhelmed by the grace and goodness and mercy of the Lord Jesus Christ.  There is no reason we should have exited the car without horrible wounds, but He protected us.  I know my purpose here on earth is not finished and the Lord has wonderful plans.  I pray I am worthy of His calling and an instrument of His grace.  Praise God.”

Access to the Father

“Because you are close to God, because of your skin.”

I stopped by the post office to check our mail this morning and one of my favorite security guards greeted me joyfully. He told me he thought I would be at church, which normally I would on a Sunday, but our church had a special Christmas event last night and therefore cancelled church this morning. Anyway, he said that they (he and another man with him) unfortunately couldn’t go to church because they were securing things. So, they read the Bible together and pray. (Yay for them, right?) He said they pray to God to protect them, that they won’t be endangered. Then he said that only God and I can protect them.

Me? How can I protect them? I responded: “Only God can protect you from danger – I can’t protect you!”

And that’s when he said it. That I could protect them through my prayers to God, because God will listen to me because of my skin color; as if having white skin is a prerequisite to having a close relationship with the Lord.

Is this what is being taught? Is it a belief that is widely held by our Zambian brothers and sisters? I find myself wondering if it is a remnant of colonialism or if it’s the result of false doctrine (or both). Some churches in South Africa and elsewhere teach that the black Africans are descendents of Ham, father of Canaan. After Noah awakes from his drunkenness In Genesis 9:25-27, it says,

“He said, ‘Cursed be Canaan! The lowest of slaves will he be to his brothers.’ He also said, ‘Blessed be the Lord, the God of Shem! May Canaan be the slave of Shem. May God extend the territory of Japheth; may Japheth live in the tents of Shem, and may Canaan be his slave.’”

The idea in the doctrine is that the black Africans are an inferior race, subject to slavery. It’s the same theology that had so many Civil War era Americans convinced that slavery was morally and spiritually acceptable.

As Luke prepared to go to Ethiopia, a European man told us that in Ethiopia, the people don’t look at themselves as inferior to whites, making it much easier to have mutual friendships and mutual working relationships. In contrast, it is very difficult to have strong mutual relationships with our Zambian brothers and sisters. Despite our sin, our shortcomings, and our brokenness, we are still viewed as “superior.” Perhaps that is why there is one church here absolutely convinced that they need an American pastor (they really want Luke) to grow. Perhaps this is why children seem to take great pride in greeting a muzungu (white person) and receiving a response. Maybe this is why when I pick something up off a shelf in Shoprite, others around me immediately look at the same thing in the hope of imitating my selection and becoming just a little more like me.

But regardless of the whys and hows, it’s wrong. I told my friend this morning that he is my brother. He has the same access to God that I do, and the Lord listens to his prayers. In Revelation 7:9 it says,

“After this I looked, and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb.”

It doesn’t say that the Americans or Europeans will be in front – in the cushy seats – VIP seating. It doesn’t say that the Zambians will be sweeping the floors or asking others to pray on their behalf. It says we will all be standing before the throne of God and the Lamb.

We are all sinners – all guilty before God until the price has been paid for our sin. And through the death of Christ on the cross, it has. One death for all mankind; not proportioned out based on our race or the intensity of our sin. We are all disobedient; and we all have access to redemption.

“There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” – Galations 3:8

I pray that I encouraged my dear brother this morning. After all, that’s what he is – my brother. We share a common Father, and have equal access to that Father. And as he sits praying and reading his Bible and wishing he were at church, I am humbled that he would think of me (running a few errands on a Sunday morning), as greater in the Kingdom of God. And I am forever grateful that our salvation is not through our actions, but only through Christ.

Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus

Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in his wonderful face,
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,
In the light of his glory and grace.

This morning we had the privilege of hosting the Kansanshi Fellowship in our home. This is a group of expatriate miners and a few others from around the world who started a small church group here in Solwezi because they didn’t feel comfortable or worship in the local Zambian churches as they were used to doing in their home countries. Actually, as August is a school holiday and many of the miners are on vacations or visiting family in South Africa or elsewhere, we’re hosting several weeks in a row.

Anyhow, the topic Luke led us through today was sin as a habit/lifestyle versus sin as an isolated event, looking at how everyone is a sinner from conception – from the disobedience of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden and from which the separation of mankind from God resulted, we are in our nature sinners. Through the blood of Christ on the cross, who was born of woman but conceived by the Holy Spirit, believers in Him are reconciled to God and freed from the power of sin. God views us as righteous, despite incidents of sin that occur after we put our trust in Him. While we are viewed as righteous, we still have to account for our sinful choices. Just as children whose parents will love them and forgive them when they do wrong but are proud of them when they do well, we know our Heavenly Father forgives and loves us when we slip, but we seek to do right for the honor it brings Him.

All that to say, that’s not what this post is about, really.... As we discussed the fact that we all still fall to temptation and make mistakes, one of the men said that sometimes he thinks we’re too focused on the sin and not on our righteousness. Before you say, “wow, he’s full of himself” or “missed the point of Christ on the cross,” think about it. He has a very, very good point. We’ve been freed from sin and its power – so why dwell on it? If we dwell on our sin, we tend to live in shame, guilt, and often a terrible cycle of: sinful action – guilt – distancing ourselves from God (how could He love us when we disappoint Him so?) – and sinful action again. It’s like when someone is on a diet and spends the whole time thinking, “I can’t eat candy bars.” If you’re constantly thinking about how you can’t do it, you’re constantly thinking about it.

If instead, we place in our minds something completely different rather than focusing on what we shouldn’t do, there’s no room for those temptations to even creep in. Our friend wasn’t saying we are righteous in that we don’t need a savior, but if we view ourselves in the righteousness we have because of Christ, it is easier to get out of the cycle of shame and focus on Him and His holiness as a guide for our own lives.

So thinking about all of that and how I should fix my eyes on Christ, the above hymn popped into my mind. If our eyes are on Jesus – in His glory and grace and splendor – the temptations of the world seem so frivolous and dull. If we focus on the temptations, and falling to the temptations, we completely miss the goodness and love of Christ. I mean seriously, what right have we to sit ashamed, guilty, and unworthy of God’s pleasure, when Jesus gave His life on the cross and deemed us worthy?

Stay tuned for a follow up to this message.... soon. Didn’t want this one to get too long....

Unworthy of Grace

What makes grace so incredible amazing is that we're never truly worth of it when we receive it. We are all - each and every one of us - dead to our sins... but through God's grace, through the atoning sacrifice of His perfect son, our sin is done away with - covered with a veil of grace. Because nothing we could do could ever restore us to an unadulterated, perfect relationship with our Father, Jesus died to serve as a bridge for the giant chasm of sin that existed between us and God.

So why do we feel like we have to earn grace? Why do we feel that is even possible? That perhaps if we can improve our position before God just a bit, we might be worthy of His love.

A few weeks ago I wrote about Ngankou, our new Cameroonian friend, whose laughter can light up a room and whose deep philosophical questions can send you to your knees in prayer for the right words and the most God-honoring answers. A few days after that post, we visited our friend and spent the afternoon discussing the significance of Christ's death on the cross and the implications of that sacrifice on where we will be spending eternity. For Ngankou, he understands the Bible in a literary sense, but can't quite grasp the fact that God would find him worthy of forgiveness for sins he has committed that he views as wrethced and unforgiveable. After all, he doesn't think he is worthy of our friendship, or of the friendship and prayer of our pastor and friends at church. To think that God would pay his penalties for him - unimaginable.

But he's been coming to church. He's even met with our pastor despite a strong disbelief that the pastor wouldn't give him the time of day. He's been asking the hard questions and trying to convince us all that "we're better than him." That he has to "get to where we are." Essentially, that he's not worthy. As we dropped him off from church today, he explained that he has a lot to work on personally - or in his words, he has "atoning to do before God would even look at him."

Oh that he would understand that the atonement is done! He understands that he is unrighteous before God, but doesn't quite realize that we all were. Because of Christ's atonement our sin has been forgiven - and we are covered with a veil of grace. God created us in His image, and loves us, and wants to have perfect fellowship with us - so much that He sent His son to bring us back to Him. As I explained this - and told him that we too were wretched sinners that did not earn our way into a relationship with the Lord but were cleansed through Jesus' death and resurrection and that through that atoning sacrifice God in essence forgets our sin and views us as righteous - something changed in him. The idea made him uncomfortable. It challenged him.

And this is where we fall powerless at God's feet in prayer. Ngankou got out of the car heavy-hearted and deep in thought. We cannot force him to understand and to put his faith in Christ. The Holy Spirit has to take over where human words fall short. May Ngankou's eyes and heart be opened. May he realize that he can't earn grace or "make up" for the sins of his past, but understand that his sentence has been paid in full if he's willing to cash the check. Will you pray with us?


(These lyrics from Tenth Avenue North's song "By Your Side" ran through my head as I wrote this post, and thought I'd share:

Why are you striving these days?
Why are you still trying, to earn grace?
Why are you crying?
Let me lift up your face,
Just don't turn away.

Why are you looking, for love?
Why are you still searching,
As if I'm not enough?
To where will you go child,
Tell me where will you run
To where will you run?

And I'll be by your side,
Wherever you fall
In the dead of night,
Whenever you call
And please don't fight
These hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you.

Look at these hands and my side
They swallowed the grave on that night
When I drank the world's sin
So I could carry you in
And give you life
I want to give you life.

And I'll be by your side
Wherever you fall
In the dead of night,
Whenever you call
And please don't fight
These hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you.

Cause I, I love you
I want you to know
That I, I love you
I'll never let you go.

Praise God that He won't ever let us go! :) )

Life's Not Fair

Man is sinful. No matter how often we try to deny it, to prove that we are inherently good, the truth is we're not. We are born sinful. Simple as that.

I was reminded of this today as we played in the "SIMCO vs. the world" volleyball game. Being ultra crazy competitive, I couldn't help but get frustrated when the other team ("the world") wouldn't play by the rules, or when some of my teammates would flub. Of course, it was never my fault. And I just got progressively more and more frustrated.

And then I got convicted. We were there to have fun, and there was no reason for me to be getting angry.

And that's just one example. Every minute feels as though I have a new story I could use as an example of how I am sinful.

As a sinner, I am fully deserving of death. Scripture says that the consequences of our sin is death. And not just death in reference to the end of this life, though that is included. It is an eternal death, an eternal separation from God.

But God, in His grace, has given us an escape from this death.

Grace. What a great word.

When I was growing up, one of the best lessons I ever learned was the meaning of "grace" and "mercy". Two words commonly included together, they really have quite different meanings. "Grace" is getting something that we don't deserve, whereas "mercy" is not getting something that we do deserve. Taken at face value, they almost seem contradictory. When considering the condemnation of sinners to death, both play a beautiful part in providing salvation. Mercy is not receiving the death that we so rightly deserve, while grace is the life that we receive when we deserve death.

I love that way Reliant K puts it in their song "Be My Escape". They say

"The beauty of grace is that it makes life not fair."

For those who have trusted Christ as their salvation, life's not fair. We don't deserve the eternal life that we've been given. I rightly deserve the death that we've earned. Yet God has given life with Him to all who have trusted His Son. And honestly, sometimes it's hard to accept this grace. It's hard to realize how bad we truly are and to accept that God has freely given us this life. We have earned death, but He has given life.

And sometimes, just sometimes, I'm okay with realizing that life isn't fair. I just pray that it would be not fair for a whole lot more people. And that's why we share God's word with those who haven't heard.