For some reason, finding the word “conduit” in the Bible surprises me. “Conduit” has been a common discussion in my home over the years as my husband has worked with it, planning routes for and running it in an industrial setting.
I was pondering what conduit is and what it does and how that parallels with the body of Christ. It’s an empty thing, strategically placed, meant to be filled and to transmit whatever fills it from one place or point to another. As believers who desire to be used of God—to be laborers in the harvest of souls in these perilous last days—our lives function like this conduit for the the gospel to fill and travel through to the fields, nooks, and crannies of the earth, making connection with people that the gospel could reach them.
I sometimes feel like my purpose is insignificant, that I have little connection and transfer very little to people in the broad field of life and not much in my little nook, either. There are two points, though, that upon considering challenge that feeling.
First, my significance of purpose in God’s harvest isn’t necessarily measured by quantity. Second, my scope has and likely will continue to change throughout my life.
I think about my father and the transition in his life to get perspective. Dad was a strong, talented baseball player and electrician who got saved and began preaching, teaching, and singing for the Lord. He ministered in jails, nursing homes, and churches. All this was happening before I was born or old enough to remember. He was traveling about, toiling in the fields, and being a faithful and devoted husband and father while he and Mom grew their family. Then, shortly after baby number six, Dad suddenly fell terribly ill with a brain tumor. He was 36.
Dad’s scope of reach in the harvest had to change basically overnight. But he was still a vital conduit for the gospel of Christ! Thank God he lived through that tumor and had health enough to teach, sing, and occasionally preach at church. He stayed mostly centered around his home and his home church. But what an asset he was to the church! His influence on our household spiritually was monumental. Dad and Mom were faithful to the Lord in the good and bad times. Most of those “times” had daily difficulty. But the hardships didn’t clog up their conduit. The troubles may have even concentrated the gospel that was transmitting through their lives into their children’s lives. The testimony of their endurance and rock solid faith impacts me to this day.
Tumor number three grew in an inoperable area of Dad’s brain. In his last two years of life he reached the point that he could no longer walk, read his Bible, and scarcely could speak. Still his spirit persevered. He died at 48.
Allow me to interject a very special memory from about two weeks before Dad died. I was sitting by him at his bedside, flipping through his bible to find something to read to him. Many of the pages had highlighted areas, and I wanted to find something that was special to him. Psalm 91 had a particular lot of highlighting in it, so I chose it. After reading it aloud to him, I remarked along the lines of, “That was pretty good, huh?” He nodded and gave a labored, “Yeah.” That was the last time he spoke to me. When I shared that experience with my Aunt Judy one day by Dad’s gravesite, she said she thought that (Psalm 91) was his favorite. That experience, I believe, was a precious gift to me from the Lord and perhaps to my father as well to get to hear his favorite scriptures again.
The people and places my dad’s life impacted changed throughout his short life, and the way he impacted others changed. I can say with conviction, though, that the importance of his life to mine and his conveyance of the gospel of Jesus to me was of the utmost significance. He demonstrated faith to me. I saw what it walked like and what it talked like. His life convinces me we need not ever believe reaching our family with the gospel is a lesser calling. It may indeed be our greatest calling. After all, oftentimes it is the place where we have the closest and tightest connections.
You may have noticed I’ve had to edit this post a couple of times. I’m typing on my phone in a teeny space, and I accidentally hit the post button; so, I have hurriedly done some editing and must wrap up my thoughts.
I would like to underscore the point that our lives and the connections we make in life are significant and valuable. God strategically orders our steps to encounter people in our lives so that we would both receive and share the gospel of Jesus. It happens in ministry and in regular daily living. It’s a continuous stream. All of us in the body of Christ are conduit for His gospel wherever we are and at every point in our lives. Our lives count, and we are included in His great conduit run throughout the earth.