As a new Christian, I came to understand God’s purpose: to bring all peoples to worship and serve His Son, the Lord Jesus Christ. That truth gripped me early on, but it also created a tension in my heart. I found myself torn between two paths — the comforts and apparent securities of life in California, and the hardships that come with living among an unreached language group. The distance from my blood and church family, the threat of dangerous diseases, unfamiliar cultures and languages, monotonous and discouraging labor, geographic and political instability, minimal living standards, and the disdain of man — all of it made me afraid to devote myself to the missionary task. I knew what I would lose.
But God has His means, and He certainly has His ends.
Brad Buser could not have come to speak at our church at a more opportune time. At the height of my inner turmoil, I heard his story for the first time. This old man burned with a language of duty, sacrifice, and love for Jesus in a way I had never seen before. He said something that struck me deeply: “If Jesus Christ is worthy of worship, then He is worthy of being worshiped by every people group on earth—even if it costs us everything to get there.” That night, I committed myself to bringing the Gospel of Jesus Christ where it had never been preached.
My decision was a calculation of conscience: I knew I couldn’t stay, because my reasons for staying were anything but godly. But I was missing something critical in that act of faith — I hadn’t yet grasped the eternal and tremendous gain that would be mine in Christ.
The Lord used my training at Radius International to teach me this truth. By the end of my training, I came to see my responsibility and privilege as one and the same. Surrounded by men and women consumed by the vision of Jesus Christ receiving praise, honor, glory, wisdom, power, and wealth from every tribe, tongue, people, and nation, I began to see the very idea that God would allow me to spend my life in His endeavor as the highest honor and privilege. I would give everything I have to participate in this work to the ends of the earth.
John Piper once said, “When the flame of worship burns with the heat of God’s true worth, the light of missions will shine to the darkest peoples on earth. And I long for that day to come!” That quote reframed everything for me. The missionary task is not merely about obedience—it’s about the glory of God. It’s about seeing Jesus Christ exalted in places where His name has never been heard. The privilege of missions is not found in the adventure or the sacrifice—it’s found in the opportunity to participate in the eternal joy of seeing Christ worshiped where He is not yet known.
Biblically, this privilege is rooted in the very heart of God. From Genesis to Revelation, God’s desire is to bless the nations through His people (Genesis 12:3), to be exalted among the nations (Psalm 46:10), and to gather worshipers from every corner of the earth (Revelation 7:9-10). The Great Commission (Matthew 28:18-20) is not just a command—it’s an invitation to join God in His redemptive mission. Paul calls it a grace given to him “to preach to the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ” (Ephesians 3:8). That’s not duty alone — it’s delight.
I’m still afraid of what I might lose — but Radius changed the paradigm. Now, I’m not afraid of what I’ll lose if I go. I’m afraid of what I’ll lose if I stay. The privilege of missions is not in what I give up, but in what I gain: the joy of seeing Jesus worshiped, the honor of suffering for His name, and the eternal reward of participating in the greatest story ever told.