Last year I had one particular week that was somewhat conflicting. I had been listening in online to a large Christian conference that had delegates from all over the world. It was an incredibly encouraging few days of hearing how God was, and is, at work across the globe. My heart was lifted up and encouraged by my brothers and sisters telling out the works of God in their contexts. I was spurred on in devotion to the work to which God had called me in Ireland.
One of the sessions, however, did not hit in quite the same way. A brother from Poland shared of the work he was involved in with youth ministry. By God’s grace he had established youth groups in many different cities, with many teens and young adults being impacted for the Kingdom. It was incredible to listen to how it had all happened. And my heart was greatly lifted up again. The only thing was, he was the same age as me. Everyone else I had listened to had at least a decade, or many, on me. I could imagine myself telling out God’s works through my ministry after seeing fruit over decades of labour. Not in a proud way, just as a means of testimony of the life I hoped to live for him. But when I heard the brother from Poland, it crushed me slightly (definitely in a proud way this time). Here I was, labouring away in a small church of 25-ish adults and as many kids. It was enough to think about how to get people to engage better with Scripture, and to pastor this small group through the myriads of personal problems that arise, and to hope that someday we could grow bigger, church plant, somehow see expansion of the kingdom into more of Dublin. The weekly grind without obvious results seemed to stand in stark contrast to this great movement amongst youth Poland. And it stung.
But the Lord has a funny way of bringing encouragement at just the right time (even when our discouragement has flecks of pride in it). That very week I had a long conversation with a sister in the church about assurance of salvation and forgiveness and Christ’s eternal priesthood. It was a great conversation, but I soon went on to forget about it and probably (though I don’t recall) went back to lamenting my failure in light of my brother’s success (for which I still gave thanks!).
That Sunday the same sister was serving teas and coffees, and as I came to get my much-needed cup of morning juice she said to me, “I can’t stop thinking about what you said the other day, about how Christ isn’t like the other priests, he’s never coming out!”
It didn’t strike me then, but it did a couple of days later. I’d been a Christian for eleven years at that stage and I had to ask myself: What is a life lived for Christ worth? I praise God for my brother in Poland, and the fruit he has seen. But I now had some new perspective on the question. That sister had been enraptured by Christ for several days by a new revelation of Him. If I had spent eleven years, labouring in the Word and prayer, in evangelism and preaching all for just that one small moment, it was worth it all. In fact, a whole lifetime would be worth it for one person, for one minute, to love Christ one little bit more, for him to be glorified just one fraction more.
By God’s grace, that is not the only fruit I’ve ever seen, not by a long shot. All those little moments add up. The imperceptible growth of weeks gives way to the very perceptible growth of years. May the Lord do a work in Ireland as in Poland and let me be satisfied with the work that he is doing here in the meantime. But regardless of all that, I would live a thousand lifetimes just for one minute of greater glory in the life of one person. Christ glorified in them is worth it all.
“Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.”
– 1 Corinthians 15:58
Imitators of Those 
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