I once heard a veteran missionary to Vietnam describe an especially difficult day. The weather was particularly hot and oppressive and the people he sought to serve were resistant. He came home to discover that thieves had stolen every piece of furniture he owned except his couch, which was too large to fit through the door.
He collapsed on that couch and cried out to God, "I don't love the Vietnamese anymore. You have to send me somewhere else. I just don't love these people." Around 2:00 the next morning, he said, the Lord spoke to him: "You're not here because you love the Vietnamese. You're here because I love the Vietnamese."
That was the reminder he needed to continue in his calling.
Who are your "Vietnamese" today?
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