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When you accept Jesus as Lord and Savior, you're not just making a personal spiritual decision—you're signing up for a new mission. Just as an employee's purpose becomes aligned with their employer's purpose when they accept a job, so too does Christ's mission become our mission when we surrender to him.
Jesus stated his purpose clearly in Luke 19:10: "The Son of Man came to seek and save that which was lost." He left heaven and came to earth on a rescue mission. When we commit to following Christ, that same rescue mission becomes our mission.
Consider the story of 15 cardiologists on a transatlantic flight. A woman named Dorothy Fletcher suffered a heart attack mid-flight. When the flight attendant called for medical personnel, 15 cardiologists—who had been settling in for a long rest—immediately responded. They performed an emergency procedure, the plane diverted to North Carolina, and Dorothy recovered enough to attend her daughter's wedding.
Those doctors had taken the Hippocratic Oath years or even decades before, but that oath motivated them to change their plans on a moment's notice. Similarly, when you gave your life to Jesus Christ, you took an oath. That oath says you're going to tell the world about Jesus and make his name famous.
Your personal story is powerful. People might argue about your convictions, disagree with your church choice, or debate doctrine—but they cannot tarnish your testimony. They cannot refute what you have personally experienced. Your story is true, personal, and relatable.
Jesus taught primarily through parables—earthly stories with heavenly meaning. Our brains are wired for stories. If your story involves a spiritual journey of recognizing your need for a Savior and accepting Jesus as Lord, then your story of being "under new management" has heavenly significance for someone.
Your testimony can be organized into three simple parts:
"I Was" — Acknowledge your need for God. Share a genuine weakness, struggle, addiction, or the moment you realized the depth of your sin and your need for Christ's forgiveness.
"Then God" — Describe God's intervention. This might be a scripture shared, a sermon, a testimony, or an observation that made you realize what you needed to do. Perhaps you fell to your knees in prayer, or you were baptized as an outward sign of your commitment to Christ.
"And Now" — Share the changes God has brought into your life. Describe the peace, freedom, joy, or assurance of heaven you've experienced. Be honest that you're not perfect but that you're growing in Christ.
Consider Zacchaeus, the tax collector in Luke 19. When he encounters Jesus, he begins telling his story: "I was greedy and dishonest. Then God in the flesh came to my house. And now I'm generous—I'm paying back those I've cheated four times over." Simple, memorable, and true.
Or the blind man in John 9. After Jesus heals him, the Pharisees question him. He simply declares: "This man Jesus put mud on my eyes and told me to wash in the pool of Siloam, and so I did—and I can see." His story: "I was blind from birth. Then God healed me. And now I believe and worship him."
Revelation 12:11 — "They triumph by the word of their testimony."
Your testimony is your strategy. No one can deny your experience.
Here's what my story sounds like: I grew up in a Christian home. Over time, I took pride in my church attendance and self-righteousness until I realized I was a poster child for spiritual pride. Jesus despises a holier-than-thou attitude. Then God used my godly parents and a teacher to show me that sin separates us from God, but Jesus built a bridge through the cross. Through him comes forgiveness, salvation, and heaven—not by my righteousness, but by trusting in him. I accepted Jesus as my Lord and was baptized. Though it was decades ago, I remember it like it was yesterday.
And now? I live with deep gratitude for what Jesus has done. I realize my pride is just as serious a sin as open rebellion. I'm striving to walk closely with Christ, not out of fear, but out of love. I still fall short and struggle. I'm not sinless, but I do sin less as I walk more closely with him.
My story may not be as dramatic as Zacchaeus or the blind man, but it's mine. It's personal, and it allows me to talk about Jesus.
Your story should spark dialogue, not monologue. This is not a debate to be won; it's a seed to be planted. Every time you tell your story, you resemble a farmer planting seeds. And you will never reap a harvest unless you plant a seed.
About two months ago, I was flying home from Chicago. The last passenger to board sat next to me, and his language was rough. I put my headphones on, but he kept trying to talk to me. Eventually, I took them off.
He told me he was heading to Kentucky because a friend from the army had taken his own life, and he and others were coming to encourage the family.
Then he said something heavy: "I've done some pretty bad things. I don't think God could ever forgive me." He confessed that the day before joining the army, he had told God he was forsaking him. He planned to do his own thing, and he believed God could never forgive that betrayal.
I shared 1 John 1:9 with him: "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness."
He asked, "What makes you think God would forgive an a-hole like me?"
I said, "Because he forgave me. Jesus' harshest criticism was of the self-righteous, not the rebellious. Sin is sin. The very first sin you committed separated you from a perfect God—that's why Jesus came. If God can forgive someone like me, he can forgive someone like you."
Out of nowhere, he asked, "Would you pray for me? Right now?" He grabbed my hand, and I prayed with him there on the plane while everyone around us listened.
The whole flight and walk to baggage claim, he kept saying, "My buddies are not going to believe this. My buddies are not going to believe this."
I thought, "Yeah, mine won't either."
I haven't heard from him since, but that day reminded me: Your mission starts right where you are, whether you want it or not. And who knows—maybe that conversation wasn't just for Marty, but for everyone around us who heard it and heard the prayer.
Here's what's convicting: Those cardiologists heard of a need and pressed the call button. When Marty reached out to me, I put my headphones on. And ironically, the very next verse I was trying to memorize was from James 1: "Don't just listen to the word of God, do what it says."
God's going to cross your path with someone this week. Will you be ready? It might be an old friend from high school going through divorce. It might be a coworker with an addiction. It might be your spouse or business partner who's been resistant to God. What I know is that it starts right where you are.
Acts 1:8 — "But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem and in all Judea and in Samaria and to the ends of the earth."
Notice the word witnesses. The Greek root word for "witnesses" also gives us two English words: martyr and marquee.
You are called to be a witness—to tell your story regardless of the cost. You are to be a billboard, like a movie marquee, a walking advertisement and representation of Christ. You're to be a witness for him right where you are. That witness can then ripple farther and farther.
God places you in specific places for a reason. Consider the young adults from the Avondale campus who went on a mission trip to the Short Creek Dream Center in Utah—a residential support center for abuse recovery and crisis intervention. They didn't do grand, dramatic things. They did yard work, painted buildings, and served the community in "mundane" ways.
Yet their acts of service deepened their own faith. One young woman said, "Instead of doing things on my own strength, I've found myself relying on [God] more. Whether I feel unqualified or not, I now trust him and let him move."
Another reflected: "I've been able to serve in ways I never thought of before, showing Jesus to others in ways I can bring back home and use in the valley."
Don't miss this: You don't have to go to Africa or Utah. God wants to use you right now—this week, at work, at the gym, in your neighborhood. It starts right where you are. Step outside your comfort zone. Share the gospel through what you say, how you live, and through acts of service.
Matthew 10:32-33 — "Everyone who acknowledges me publicly here on earth, I will also acknowledge before my Father in heaven."
1 Peter 3:15 — "But in your hearts, revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect."
We're quick to come up with excuses: fear of ridicule, lack of Bible knowledge, worry about being asked something we can't answer, fear of the unknown. But Christ followers should symbolically press the call button, step up to the plate, and get involved.
When the big boss—Jesus himself—commands you to tell others about him, he means it. You're putting yourself under his authority. You're aligning with his mission. His purpose becomes your purpose.
Luke 9:23 — "Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves, take up their cross daily, and follow me."
We need willingness and urgency. Whether people show gratitude or ridicule us, whether we receive praise or persecution—we must be ready.
What seems like a casual lunch or golf outing with friends can quickly become a spiritual conversation with just one question or comment. The longer you're a Christian, the more you discover that spiritual opportunities don't unfold on your timetable. Jesus doesn't want you second-guessing his commands. He said, "You shall be my witnesses."
As Lisa TerKeurst says: "My job is to be obedient to God. God's job is everything else."
God plants us in different places throughout our day to love different people. He brings people into our path, and it's up to us whether we'll do something about it.
Years ago, I drove to a small town about an hour from home in Kentucky. I'd blocked out the entire day for sermon preparation and planned to work at a library. Midday, I went to a greasy spoon diner for lunch.
At another table sat a woman with two little girls, glancing anxiously out the window at a mechanic shop next door. I overheard her thanking the waitress for letting them hang out.
I walked over and asked if everything was okay. She explained that her truck had broken down. She was moving from Ohio to Texas with her kids in a U-Haul, and the U-Haul wasn't working either. I offered encouragement and left.
But when I reached my car, I felt a nudge: You should have done something. My words felt hollow. I sensed the Holy Spirit prompting me to go back.
I don't know anything about fixing trucks, but I had some cash in my backpack and simple cards my wife and I use—with our phone number and a note: "If you have a need or prayer request, reach out."
I grabbed the cash and card, went back inside, and left them at her table next to her purse. Minutes later, my phone rang. "Are you the guy from the diner?"
"Yeah, that's me, Diner Dave."
"Why did you do that?"
"I'm a Christian, and I felt like God wanted me to help. It sounded like you were having a rough day."
She burst into tears.
Later, I learned her truck needed more work. My wife got involved, and we booked a hotel room for her and the girls. The next afternoon, my wife invited them to stay at our house since it was on their route to Texas.
That night—we had a great meal, told stories, prayed, watched it snow, and drank hot chocolate.
Later, my wife told me the rest of Netty's story. At the diner, Netty was at the end of her rope. Her ex-boyfriend had cut off their joint credit card. She had no money, no place to stay, a broken truck, and two kids depending on her, hundreds of miles from her family.
Netty put a quarter in the video game for the girls, locked herself in the bathroom, got on her knees, and prayed: "Okay, God, if you're up there, you're going to have to show yourself. I've got nothing. I can't do this. I just need to know that you care."
She wiped her tears, walked back to the table—and saw my card and money.
The smallest act of obedience can become the answer to someone else's prayer.
I hesitate to share this because pastors easily cherry-pick stories to make themselves look good. Truthfully, my self-absorption has kept me from giving time to people in need far more often than not. That story is more the exception than the norm.
But the outcome has motivated me to do better. I got to share my story with Netty. My wife got to share her story. And it led to a recommitment to the Lord for Netty.
I'm haunted by how many Netties I've walked past, how many times I've sensed the Holy Spirit's prompting and then suppressed it. I can't live in the past, but I can learn from it. God will give me new opportunities.
So my question for you is: Who's your Lord? Who's calling the shots in your life?
Too often we're listening to the 19-year-old coworker, to our own selfish desires. Perhaps it's time to start listening to the big boss—the one you claim is master and CEO of your life, the one who died to become a perfect sacrifice for your sins.
He gave you a new mission. It starts right where you are.
If in the past you haven't been intentional about sharing your faith—your past is behind you. His power is within you. His opportunities are before you.
Here's my challenge: Have a spiritual conversation with someone this coming week. You could start with a non-threatening question:
I guarantee you'll have opportunities this week to have a spiritual conversation with a stranger or friend. The only question is whether you'll have the boldness and love to push the call button and speak up.
As you leave this service, you'll receive a sticker—a location pin within a globe. It represents your world inside the world. Through the power of the Holy Spirit, you can reach both.
Think about where you want to place that sticker. Put it somewhere that will remind you to plant seeds, to have boldness in spiritual conversations, to take a holy risk for God. Perhaps your desk, your cubicle wall, your laptop, your car dashboard, or the back of your phone.
I put mine on the back of my phone. Every time I see it, it reminds me: I want to be looking for opportunities. I need faith to boldly share with others.
God would never place you where he doesn't intend to use you. When you follow those promptings, it is always fulfilling. Every time I step out in faith and say yes, God comes through. And I'm always glad I followed through.
Father in heaven, I wonder how many times you brought someone into my path, but I was too busy talking when I should have been listening. Lord, we're reminded that your Son Jesus came on a rescue mission to seek and save that which was lost. May his purpose become our purpose. Remind us that it starts right where we are. May we live his purpose, share our story, and reach this world.
It's in Jesus' name that we pray. Amen.
