I live in Russia. I’m told my Russian is fluent, but it is hard to see completion in myself. I love what I do, most of the time. When I’m walking through waist high snow on my way to work I have doubts, but those are fleeting and rather normal under the circumstances.

I am a missionary, and what I do is serve the people of Russia. This sounds holy or grandiose, but the reality of it is that being a missionary is not holy or grandiose at all hut involves a lot of small daily closes of service to others.

I work among Russian missionaries. Each of them has a calling and passion for God’s work. Our common goal is the fulfillment of the Great Commission in Russia, and our main focus is training. supporting, and encouraging the growth of new churches. The Association for Spiritual Renewal (or Peter Deyneka Russian Ministries, as it is known in the States) supports 300 missionaries through out Russia, Ukraine. and Belorussia. The work takes place out of 35 regional centers, and a network of support spreads from there.

Irma is a sociologist with two doctorates, and she is the director for research and publications. On Wednesday after noon I found her silently crying in her office. I was a bit surprised, and the question that I had wanted to ask quickly died on my tongue. She told me that she was overwhelmed with a fog of nothingness, and couldn’t remember why her work was important. “Maybe it isn’t,” she noted.

Irma had forgotten the promise of God in Psalm 37:23-24: “The steps of a man are established by the Lord, and He delights in his way. When he falls he will not be hurled headlong, because the Lord is the One who holds his hand.”

I shared with her my own recent struggle against an unknown fog that isolated me and brought me to doubt my work and direction. Then I shared with her God’s words of faithfulness and promise. We prayed together. I was able to pass on to her what God had taught me. A small dose of service.

“I don’t know what to do. I have to have this translated right now for a meeting about humanitarian aid for orphan children. The entire project might be at stake. My English isn’t good enough and I don’t know what to do!” Nadya worried at her desk over a thank-you to sponsors, and bemoaned her situation. The thank-you was from children who had received gift boxes from Samaritan’s Purse Operation Christmas Child project. I offered to translate the letter, knowing that I had my own urgent work waiting on my desk. The thank-you was translated and sent out by the needed deadline. Another small close of service.

Galina doesn’t usually come to our church service, but today she was there. In past meetings she has been rather aloof. After we exchanged a hello, I didn’t expect any further communication. But she came up to me, sat very close, and seemed to just want to draw strength from me. I asked her about her life. Her big brown eyes filled with tension and anxiety as she told me about the recent discovery that both her mother and best friend might have cancer.

“One of my school friends just died of cancer,” she said. “I am really scared. I don’t know what to do. I feel so isolated and alone.”

A new believer, Galina seemed to be paralyzed by fear and unable to even pray about the situation My heart responded with sadness and compassion. But what could I do to really help? After a few interruptions Galina was getting ready to leave. I pulled her into a quiet corner, and began to pray for her. That week I called her a few times to pray and get updates.

Two weeks later her friend’s lump was diagnosed as benign. “My mother is still being tested, but now I know that God is indeed with me. I can trust Him. I feel Him with me through players. I feel surrounded by His love and care no matter what.” A small dose of service.

All of these stories are small, everyday-type events. As I was growing up in the Southside Indianapolis RP Church I remember hearing tales from missionaries, and this was not the kind of thing that I remember. As these “models” of Christianity would stand before the congregation and talk about their missionary lives, all I saw was their invincibility. I didn’t understand that being a missionarv was not about being a spiritual “model.” Being a missionary is more about being transformed and listening to God’s quiet whisper and then obeying that in life. Obedience to God often means being willing to serve others, so that they may see God.

When I think about my life as a missionary, and really about the life of any Christian, I am reminded of the account of Jesus in Matthew 9:35-36: “Jesus was going through all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom,… Seeing the people He felt compassion for them, because they were distressed and dispirited like sheep with out a shepherd.”

Jesus urged, “Let your light so shine before men that they will see your good works and glorify your Father who is in heaven” (Matt. 5:16).

Despite the challenges of living in Russia, I am glad that I work here in encouraging fellow believers, I love what I am doing, But more than that, I love the joy of answering God’s call on my life, and being a small close of service to a people in need.

“I will appoint you as a covenant to the people, as a light to the nations, to open blind eyes, to bring out prisoners from the dungeon and those who dwell in darkness from the prison” (Isa. 42:6-7).