© WanHee Yoon

Last week, I attended the four-year Women’s Missionary Conference of the Northeastern Jurisdiction of the United Methodist Church, held in Hartford, Connecticut.
Under the theme “Open the Door for Mission,” about 1,500 women gathered from local churches to celebrate and report on their work—sending missionaries throughout the world through the offerings collected by the Women’s Missionary Organization.

Though it was only a brief three-day gathering, I could not help but feel deep gratitude for how these offerings, gathered with love and devotion from each local congregation, are being used so preciously around the world.

When we hear of “mission work” in our churches, we often imagine journeys to faraway lands or heavy financial burdens.
We tend to think only specially called missionaries can do it.
But in truth, it is the calling of all Christians—whether “in season or out of season.”
Mission is not hindered by lack of money or time, but by lack of heart.

On our way back home from the conference, God led us into an unexpected moment of mission.
Driving down the highway, we planned to stop at the first rest area for breakfast, but in conversation we missed the exit.
So we pulled into the next one instead.
As soon as we parked, a teenage boy from a nearby car approached one of the deaconesses who had been driving.
From his shabby appearance, I sensed something was wrong.
Inside the car sat another boy, a little older, watching us nervously.

The boy explained that their car had a flat tire while following their parents’ car.
They lost track of them, and to make matters worse, ran out of gas.
They asked for a little money.
Looking inside their car—filled with trash, old wrappers, and soda cups—I realized they were probably runaways, wandering without direction.
A thought struck my heart: “Lord, perhaps You have arranged this meeting.”

Yet I couldn’t simply hand them money, nor could I lecture them about their lives.
So I prayed silently:
“Lord Jesus, what would You do in this moment?”
And the Spirit answered in my heart:

“I was hungry, and you gave Me food;
I was thirsty, and you gave Me drink;
I was a stranger, and you welcomed Me;
I was naked, and you clothed Me;
I was sick, and you visited Me;
I was in prison, and you came to Me (Matthew 25:35–36) …
And when I had no oil, you filled my lamp.”

I told the boys to pull their car to the gas pump, and I filled their tank completely.
Their faces, once cold and stiff, lit up with disbelief and joy.
Then I said, “May I sit inside your car and pray for you?”
They hesitated for a moment but agreed, apologizing for the mess.

I took their hands and prayed:

“Lord, thank You for leading me to these precious youths this morning.
I do not know their story—what struggles they face with their parents, school, or friends—but You know.
Please guide them, protect them, and when life’s troubles come, teach them to ask, seek, and knock at Your door.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.”

It was a short prayer, but I felt the Lord had touched their hearts.
Their dark eyes began to shine.
One of them said, “Actually, we prayed to God this morning, asking for gas!”
I smiled and replied, “You see? When we pray, God always listens.
But you must also listen to His voice. Do you go to church?”
“One time… sometimes,” they said.
“Not sometimes,” I answered. “A car needs constant fuel. Faith does too!”
They nodded earnestly.

As I stepped out, I said,
“Now, clean your car! When your car is in chaos, so is your mind.
Here’s a little money—get some breakfast. Remember, God truly loves you.”
They stood speechless, holding the bills, and as they drove away, the morning sun glittered across their rattling car.

Mission, I realized, happens both together and alone.
There are missions we share as a church, and others we must answer to personally.
To participate in either is pure grace.
Children never tire of receiving from their parents,
but parents know the joy of giving.
So too, mature Christians discover the joy of giving—
the joy of living the mission “in season and out of season.”

May we continue to pray,
to open the doors of mission that still await us,
and to walk faithfully through them each day.

(Letter from the Parsonage, O Souls That Leap Like Deer, Fourteenth Story, 1996)