So, I've been thinking about being a missionary and about the Gospel (what else is new?), and I just love and just hate how little it makes me feel. When you're laboring in the work of the Lord, face to face with His precious sons and daughters, knowing that the only way they will hear the everlasting Gospel is through snot-nosed eighteen-to-twentysomethings like you and that they will forever be influenced by the next few words that come out of your mouth, you tend to realize how, as an individual, you are SOOO ill-equipped to tell the fifty-something year-old man in front of you, whose livelihood depends on his job as a bar man but who, as a result, cannot go to church on Sunday, and who also has a problem with alcoholism, that the only way to follow Christ is to risk finding a different job. But here's the part I love: I don't have to do it. The Lord works through His servants and puts in their mouths the things which they should say. (And the things which they would say just happen to be waaaay cooler and more profound than the things which I would say.) And He helps us through our weaknesses. In a way, it's kind of a relief to be able to admit that, for my own merit, I'm basically useless as a human being much less as a missionary. Because therein, I have room to ask the Lord for help. And He will help me. And it's because He loves me. And with His help, I can do all things. I can help these people. I can make sense as a teacer and as a mesenger of Christ.