All of Jesus’ disciples are called to ministry. First, ministry is not simply work (even though ministry often involves many tasks to be done). Ministry requires surrender. If you know that you are God’s beloved, if you continually choose to bear with and forgive your brothers and sisters in the fellowship, and if you learn to appreciate their gifts and strengths—then you are already doing the work of ministry.
When Jesus healed the sick, it was not through complicated tasks. Healing flowed from the power within Him. Everyone who touched Him was healed, because His pure heart released power. He did not say, “Let me talk with you for ten minutes, analyze your case, and then maybe I can help.” Power flowed from Him because He lived in full surrender to God’s will, always listening to God’s voice. His times of solitude with the Father created deep intimacy, and this intimacy radiated through Him to everyone He encountered.
Ministry means surrender. You must believe that as God’s beloved sons and daughters, you too can be like Jesus—that healing power can flow from you, and those who need healing will be restored through you.
“Go heal the sick, walk on water, raise the dead.” This is not exaggeration. Jesus said, “Everything I do, you will do also, and even greater works than these.” He was clear: “As the Father sent Me, so I am sending you—into this world to bring healing.”
You must trust this healing power. Believe that as God’s beloved, your very life carries the ability to heal others—whether you are aware of it or not. But you must remain faithful to His call.
Healing ministry can be summed up in two words: gratitude and compassion.
In healing, you must often guide others into gratitude, because this world is full of resentment and bitterness. What is resentment? It is frozen anger—“I am angry at him, I am angry at this situation; this is not what I wanted.” Slowly resentment spreads until one becomes a bitter, complaining person.
Resentment keeps us stuck in our failures, our disappointments, and in mourning what we have lost. Life is full of losses—lost dreams, lost friends, lost family, lost hopes. When these come, we must resist turning to resentment, for resentment hardens the heart.
Jesus teaches us to give thanks. He says, “O foolish ones, do you not know that the Son of Man must suffer and then enter His glory? Do you not know that present sufferings are like the pains of childbirth, leading to joy? Do you not see that what looks like loss and failure is gain in God’s eyes? Whoever loses their life for My sake will find it. Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.”
Can you live with gratitude for all that has happened in your life—not only the good, but also the painful things that have shaped you into who you are today? God chose to give His only Son, nailed to a cross, to bring forth new life in us who are called Christians. That is the mystery of God’s great love and power.
Our ministry is to help people let go of resentment, to help them see that in their deepest pain there is blessing and healing. When you weep, it may be the very beginning of joy and dancing.
In this imperfect world, joy and sorrow, good and bad, are sharply divided. But in God’s eyes, they have never been separated. Where there is pain, there is God’s healing. Where there is mourning, there is dancing. Where there is poverty, there is God’s kingdom.
Jesus says, “Weep for your pain, and you will find Me in your tears. Be grateful that I am with you in your weakness.” Ministry means helping people to learn gratitude for life—even when it is mixed with pain. This gratitude spreads across the world to all who suffer. As ministers, as disciples of Jesus, we go to places of pain not because we love suffering, nor because we are masochists, but because God is hidden in the midst of pain.
“Blessed are the poor.” Jesus did not say, “Blessed are those who help the poor.” He said, “Blessed are the poor, blessed are those who mourn, blessed are those who suffer—for I am there.” To minister means to enter into the pain of others. Sometimes that pain is hidden behind outward success, but still it is there.
Compassion means to suffer-with those who suffer. When Jesus saw the widow of Nain (Luke 7:11–15), He knew she had just lost her only son. His heart overflowed with compassion. He so deeply entered her pain that He raised her son from the dead and gave him back to his grieving mother.
We are sent into places of poverty, loneliness, and suffering—called to have the courage to remain there. If we dare to give ourselves fully in such places, we will discover the joy of Jesus. Every ministry throughout history has been built on this vision: a world shaped by compassion.
“Be merciful, as your Father in heaven is merciful.” That is a high calling. But do not be afraid. Do not say, “I cannot do it.”
When you know you are God’s beloved child, when you walk with brothers and sisters in fellowship, you can do anything. You will no longer fear. You will not fear knocking on the door of a dying person. You will not fear speaking of Jesus with someone who looks successful but is inwardly broken. You are free.
I have experienced this myself. When I was depressed and anxious, I knew my friends could not fix it. Those who helped me most were the ones not afraid to be with me in my weakness. In those moments of vulnerability, I received God’s blessing.
Just a few weeks ago, a friend of mine passed away. At his funeral, a story was read about a little river. The river said, “I want to become a great river.” It pushed and pushed until it overcame rocks, walls, even forests. Each time it said, “I can do it.” But then it reached a desert. The scorching sand dried it up until nothing was left but a puddle. Then the river heard a voice from above: “Surrender. Let Me carry you. Trust Me.” The river said, “Here I am.” The sun lifted the river into the sky, turned it into a great cloud, and carried it across the desert. The cloud poured out rain, watering the land, and the land bore fruit.
So it is in our lives. We all face deserts, trying to cross them in our own strength. But from above comes a voice: “Let go. Surrender. I will make you fruitful. Trust Me.”
The most important thing in your life is not success or achievement, but fruitfulness. And fruit often comes through pain, through weakness, through loss. Only the plowed ground bears fruit. God desires your life to be abundantly fruitful.
So the question is not, “What more can I accomplish?” but, “How can I prepare myself to fully surrender to God, so that my life may bear lasting fruit?”
Our lives are small, fragile, fleeting. But in the eyes of the One who calls us “My beloved child,” our lives are greater than the years we can count. We will bear fruit—fruit unseen on this earth, but certain in God’s promise. We believe. We trust.
Solitude with God, fellowship with others, and ministry—these are the rhythms that lead us into a fruitful life. Abide in Jesus, and He will abide in you. You will bear much fruit. And your joy will be full.
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