JUSTIN LEE

“For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.”

Colossians 3:3

From the start of the school year, God began stirring in me a desire to apply for STSM. I had gone on other mission trips before, but what set this one apart was not only the length and training, but the season of life God had placed me in. I was reading His Word with growing hunger, yet I was wrestling with a question that lingered in my mind: Is it really true that the chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever? I had heard it countless times, but I couldn’t bring myself to fully believe it. If glorifying God and enjoying Him was truly enough, then why did my heart keep chasing satisfaction elsewhere? Why did joy in Christ feel so distant? These questions weighed heavily on me, even as I considered missions. God was working on my unbelief. I questioned whether giving up a summer was worth it. I wondered if my time would be wasted, or if I was missing out on opportunities for myself. Yet God gently reminded me through Scripture that His glory far outweighs anything I might lose (Philippians 3:8). To glorify Him and to find joy in Him was not only my duty, but also the greatest privilege. So, by His grace, I stepped forward—not because I had resolved all my doubts, but because God was leading me into a season where He would show me that He is indeed worthy of my life, my summer, and my joy.

“[T]here is no substitute for real spiritual blessing,” a quote from Hudson Taylor, became one of the most impactful lessons I learned in India. Each day began at 5:30 AM and ended near midnight. By God’s strength alone, I made it through. It was abundantly clear which days I made time for intentional time with God, and which days I sought comfort, thinking it would make me more usable on the mission field. In reality, God did not want me at 100% every day, as I would have boasted in my own ability. He gently showed me that His power is made perfect in my weakness, and that no amount of comfort or energy can compare with intentional time with God.

Another lesson I learned had to do with what it truly means to be faithful and trust in His sovereignty. Before the trip, I prayed that God would help me love the people of India—not just the idea of missions—and that I would be faithful wherever He placed me. At first, I went in with the agenda of bringing many to salvation and placed an unhealthy, unbiblical expectation on every interaction I had. God gently humbled me and showed me that I am not the cause of anyone’s salvation. It is not this great act of going on missions that saves; it is His finished work on the cross alone. He has allowed me to partake in His mission work, and I am called to be faithful.

During VBS and discipleship, I became discouraged when children seemed distracted or when students were more curious about America than about Christ. I began measuring my worth by how persuasive I could be. But again, God corrected me: ministry is not about producing visible results—it’s about faithfulness. Jeremiah served faithfully with little fruit, while Jonah was reluctant yet saw a city repent. And yet, God was pleased with Jeremiah’s obedience (Jeremiah 1:7–8). In the same way, I learned that He calls us to be faithful, not “successful,” and that faithfulness itself glorifies Him.

Perhaps the greatest blessing I received from this trip came through one of the biggest trials. I felt an overwhelming sense of urgency for all these people’s souls. Yet all I could do was share the Gospel and entrust the rest to God. This was greatly tested during our blind friends ministry, where we interacted with individuals who had been overlooked and mistreated simply for being blind. As I pleaded to God for their salvation, I became full of anger—angry that I could not will them to salvation, angry at the injustice they suffered, angry at the thought of their possible eternal condemnation. All the theological answers did not suffice in my mind; I could not understand why a good God would allow this.

God heard my cries and spoke through our missionary as he tasked us with hugging each individual there—not out of consolation, but in the same way Jesus would. I was humbled. I had forgotten who God is: a Father who loves far more deeply than I ever could, who knows every grief, and who has promised never to leave or forsake His people (Deuteronomy 31:6). In that moment, I experienced God as an intimate, loving Father, and a certain peace washed over me as I sat with full assurance that God loves these people abundantly more than I, so why wouldn’t I rejoice that He holds their eternity in His hands?

If I could summarize this trip in one phrase, it would be: “For the glory of God.” I saw His glory in my weakness, in the faces of those we served, and in the Gospel that never grows old. I also saw how utterly dependent I am on abiding in Christ. John 15:5 remains true: apart from Him, I can do nothing.

I know how easy it can be to make South India just an experience. I don’t desire that. I see South India as a training ground, a great lesson in what a truly holy life looks like: being faithful in the mundane and open to the calling God places in front of me. Now that I am home, God is calling me to abide in Christ daily—not out of performance or culture, but out of joy in who He is. He is teaching me to live a holy life by trusting Him with the results and being faithful in whatever He calls me to. This is why I step forward to abide daily in Him, serve in KCM—not to prove myself, but to answer His call and be part of His work. My prayer now is that God would continue to teach me to walk in a manner worthy of the Gospel, for the glory of God—for there is no greater pursuit.

To a holy life.