I still remember the first time the gospel was preached to me. I was a very young child, in primary school, I believe. My school took the class on an excursion to learn about history. The place was Changi Chapel, and as the excursion teacher taught us, I felt an inward draw to the paintings on the wall instead.
It felt like I was staring at something life-changing. The murals told of the sacrifice of Jesus. I kept trying to pay attention to my teacher instead, but I found a pull in my heart towards the murals, like some important secret was behind those pictures. One mural spoke of Jesus giving his blood and flesh for us to drink and feed upon, and I misunderstood. I didn’t accept Christ then because I didn’t want to drink human flesh or drink anyone’s blood. And as I look back to this incident, I realised there wasn’t a human involved in this moment the gospel was preached to me.
Later in life, the day I was saved happened in a similar fashion. I suddenly felt a call from God himself to be saved one night. And I didn’t know how but I knew “Jesus”. I searched online for the way to be saved, and I prayed for Jesus to become my Lord and Saviour. It was the happiest day of my life – the day I was saved. But what happened with the chapel also happened here.
There had been no one to minister to me.
These two events taught me an important lesson. God needs no ministers to do His work. It is a privilege to do God’s work. Learning this changed the way I approach service. It is a gift from God to be able to serve, because if we serve, we also become qualified to receive rewards from Him. I love that God taught me this truth.
The truth that God does not need me.
He wants me.
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