Just One Is Worth It

My heart rate increased as I felt heat rising in my face. I approached the empty stage with Bible and notes in hand, took a deep breath in an attempt to steady my shaking hands, and looked around the room. Taking in the attentive eyes and listening ears, and with weeks of preparation behind me, I began my first keynote message.

It took me several minutes to find my footing and work the quaver out of my voice, and then somewhere between the shared stories and sacred Scripture, I stepped aside and let the Holy Spirit guide my words. Thirty minutes later I floated off the stage the way one does when Spirit and flesh join forces. I could get used to this, I thought. Maybe public speaking would become my newest ministry?

That invitation to speak was unsolicited but welcome. I’ve shared my heart through writing for several years. Leading a small group at my church provides an outlet for all the words about Jesus that build up in me throughout the week. Reaching a larger audience through speaking seems to be the next logical step.

Yet since giving that keynote message, I feel my reach decreasing instead of growing larger. Because I returned to the full-time work world, I don’t write as often as I once did. I also took a break from leading a small group this semester. Words build up in me and fade away without ever being shared. When I look at this through the lens of success, it feels like a step backward.

A scene straight out of the book of Acts challenges my view of success. In Acts 8, Philip finds himself in front of a crowd in Samaria, preaching the good news about the kingdom of God. Many believe and are baptized. I imagine Philip felt the same kind of euphoria I did as I stepped off that stage. The feeling of the Holy Spirit blessing your efforts is addictive.

Then Philip is called away from that platform. His audience drastically decreases in size when an angel of the Lord directs him to a desert place to meet an Ethiopian eunuch. There, Philip explains the gospel to one man.

Philip didn’t argue with the angel. He didn’t question why he was pulled from a place of numerical influence to be by the side of a single foreigner. He ran to meet the one—with no questions, no argument, no stalling, no doubt.

The result? Let’s read Acts 8:35–38: “Philip proceeded to tell him the good news about Jesus, beginning with that Scripture. As they were traveling down the road, they came to some water. The eunuch said, ‘Look, there’s water. What would keep me from being baptized?’ So he ordered the chariot to stop, and both Philip and the eunuch went down into the water, and he baptized him” (CSB).

God pulled Philip away from a ministry to many, to facilitate the conversion of one. Just one is worth it.

I become discouraged when I look at the massive influence my Bible-teacher role models have. As I walk the aisles of the bookstore, my finger traces across spines of books that sell millions of copies. Their video curriculum rolls across screens in hundreds of churches and homes. Tweets and Instagram captions from today’s spiritual giants get thousands of likes and shares.

Most of us don’t have that level of influence. We read Bible stories to our children before bed. We share encouraging words with a coworker during a difficult time. We meet a few friends for coffee and share insight from a Bible passage or a book we just read. When compared to the big Bible teachers, our reach may feel small.

Just one is worth it. God cared enough about the Ethiopian eunuch to pull Philip away from the crowd. In an instant, one became as important as the many.

Jesus taught the same principle through the parable of the lost sheep: “‘Suppose one of you had a hundred sheep and lost one. Wouldn’t you leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the lost one until you found it? When found, you can be sure you would put it across your shoulders, rejoicing, and when you got home call in your friends and neighbors, saying, “Celebrate with me! I’ve found my lost sheep!'” (Luke 15:4–6 MSG).

When I begin to feel discouraged over my seemingly small reach, I remind myself just one is worth it. When I choose to discuss spiritual truths with my teenager instead of writing a blog post, she is worth it. The time spent preparing and sharing a lesson with a handful of women in my small group is worth it. A conversation about the gospel with just one who doesn’t yet understand is as valuable as a message delivered from a church platform.

Let’s not allow perceived smallness to discourage us. Each person we encounter today is worth it to our Father God. He loves them so much he sends us to minister to them. We may not reach millions, but just one is worth it!

Kelly Smith is a small town girl who married a small town man. They have three children. In the quiet minutes of her day, you will find her at the keyboard or curled up with a book–always with coffee. Kelly believes we are created for community and loves to find ways to connect with other women who are walking in the shadow of the cross. She blogs at mrsdisciple.com.

Photograph © Damir Bosnjak, used with permission