Global on the Great Commission while Silent Next Door 

Global on the Great Commission while Silent Next Door 

I met a woman in South Africa a few months ago who quietly wrecked me. 

She isn’t a pastor. She isn’t a missionary. She owns a salon. 

As she did her thing in the salon, she shared Jesus with the people who sat in her chair. In just three years, she has invited more than 45 people to surrender their lives to Christ. Most of them are now connected to a local church and are being discipled. 

A deep joy consumed me. 

Then I got on the plane home and couldn’t shake a different question. 

Why doesn’t my life look more like hers? 

Because here’s my confession: I love Jesus. And yet, I couldn’t tell you the last time I actually invited someone into a relationship with Him. 

So I sat with that gap between her life and mine, and instead of letting guilt run the show (because guilt was never going to move me anywhere good) I asked God to show me why.  

Not so I could feel bad. So I could actually change. 

Scripture isn’t vague here. Jesus didn’t suggest the Great Commission; He commanded it: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations… teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you” (Matthew 28:19-20).  

And Paul asks the question that’s been needling me: “How are they to believe in Him of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone preaching?” (Romans 10:14). 

Somebody has to open their mouth. And, apparently, that somebody hasn’t been me. 

In prayer and reflection, three things surfaced that I’m wrestling with Jesus about. 

Judgment. It’s hard to feel compassion for someone who’s lost when I’m quietly seated in judgment over them…criticism dressed up as discernment, superiority dressed up as righteousness. Judgment robs me of compassion, and compassion is almost always what moves people toward Jesus. 

Authenticity. As a proud Gen Xer, authenticity matters deeply to me/us. I don’t want conversations to feel forced or scripted. But I’ve realized something uncomfortable: sometimes my pursuit of authenticity becomes an excuse for delayed obedience. I tell myself, I’ll share when it feels natural. I’ve convinced myself that being genuine and being obedient to the Great Commission were somehow in tension. They’re not. Obedience is authentic, too. 

Intentionality. Honestly, I just don’t think about it. And that’s hard for me to admit. I spend a lot of time thinking about global missions, unreached people groups, and the advancement of the gospel around the world. I care deeply about those things. 

But I don’t often think about the waiter who served me lunch today as deeply. Or my neighbor. Or the parent standing next to me at my kid’s event. The people God has already placed within arm’s reach. 

I wonder if one of the reasons the Great Commission has quietly slipped in importance within much of the Western Church isn’t because we’ve stopped believing it. 

We’ve simply stopped thinking about it. 

The good news is that Jesus never intended evangelism to be fueled by guilt. It has always been fueled by love. 

The closer we draw to Christ, the more His heart becomes our heart. The One who “came to seek and to save the lost” (Luke 19:10) begins shaping our desires until we can’t help but notice the people He notices. 

That’s the prayer I’ve been praying lately. 

Not, “Lord, help me feel more guilty.” 

But, “Lord, help me love people the way You do.” 

Because when love grows, witness naturally follows. 

This week, don’t start by asking God for more opportunities. Join me in asking Him for His heart. Then pay attention to the people He’s already placed in front of you. Someone in your neighborhood, workplace, coffee shop, or family may be waiting for an invitation to discover the same eternal hope you’ve found.