If you jump in a car and head west from my hometown (Oberlin Kansas) towards Denver, you enter a whole new world.  One that few encounter and most would not appreciate.  Highway 36 is a vast open space, sprinkled with tiny little towns spread far enough apart for early pioneers to rest and resupply before continuing their passage to the wild-wild west.  You will pass by old homesteads that have long since been abandoned and massive cooperate farms with huge grain storage bens rising above the desolate terrain.  Out here, investors and corporate farmers do not acquire lots or acres.  They swallow up immense sections of land that stretch for miles.  

As you pass through these parts, you come upon a tiny little speck in the road called Last Chance, Colorado, and you know you have reached the end of civilization.  From Last Chance to Strasburg, you find yourself lost in an ocean of farms and ranches that stretch from horizon to horizon—penetrated only by a livestock holding pin or the occasional grain ben built to store the abundance of grain harvested from the previous season. 

Jesus once told his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field.” I get the picture.  Jesus wants us to spend our time in the harvest field.  Not hanging out by the grain bins and holding pins.  But the truth is, over the passing of time, most new believers tend to migrate from the fields to the folds.  We protect the harvest field. We move the harvest from grain bin to grain bin, but we distance ourselves from the actual crops.  Hanging around other believers is more comfortable.  We don’t have to fight against the elements, take big risks, or use up resources.

Lately, I’ve been praying this prayer.  Lord, lead me back to the harvest field.  I’ve been a Christian for over 50 years, and I’m not sure I can locate an actual crop.  I know it’s probably not in Last Chance, Colorado.  I’m guessing it’s a lot closer.  

So this morning, I started my day with prayer.  Lord, give me the eyes to see more than chance encounters.  Help me to see divine appointments.  Lead me to situations where I can be salt and light to the people I may encounter today.  That was an easy prayer.  But I know it’s going to  require me to stay focused, reminding myself a few times along the way.  

Then I asked the Lord to help me see the people who really don’t know you at all.  The answer took a while.  For a long time, I could only put one family on my list.  That was convicting.  So, I had to pray, “Lord—where can I go, and what can I do to rub shoulders with more lost people?  After a while, God brought more names to mind.  Most of them were family and close friends.  Go figure.

I continued praying.  “Lord, who do I know that is standing on the fence?  The folks that are Christian-ish.  Names came quicker, and the list was longer.  “Father, teach me how to make these relationships more redemptive.”  I let that soak for a while.  And God began to reveal ways that I can re-engage and redirect these into life-giving relationships.

Finally, “God, show me fellow believers who need to be encouraged in their faith.”  The list was long, and names came fast.  And rightfully so.  This is where I spend most of my time—among fellow believers.  And building the body and equipping the saints for works of service is a great way lock shoulders with fellow harvesters.