“One of the girls in our small group came to me after maybe a year or so of listening to people and she was like, ‘I feel like I’ve heard every single one of my worst fears in these stories ... but all I hear is hope.'" It was a riveting moment as I interviewed 'Reese' for the Major Project in my D.Min. program. As she invited her friends to share their testimonies of seeing Jesus care for them in their greatest suffering, others caught a vision for what it looks like to be a disciple.

In March 2007, I flew to the Bay Area for InterVarsity's Asian American Staff Conference. During the conference, they set aside an evening to honor a woman who had faithfully served the Lord for many decades. I realized we were there only because she had paid the price to disciple many of the leaders in this movement. The room was filled with honor. Her friends would have done anything to help her.

"So much death. What can men do against such reckless hate?" As King Théoden looks out at the masses of orcs storming Helm's Deep, and the fallen friends at his feet, he nearly loses hope. Aragorn, the Heir of Isildur, replies, "Ride out with me. Ride out and meet them." Instead of cowering in fear, they charge through the orc line. As the sunlight crests over the hill, they look up and see Gandalf, leading a fresh army of Rohirrim. There was no need to worry when victory was on its way.

Chuck Johnston, my high school Bible study leader, taught me the book of James. I don't remember anything he said. But I do remember his gentleness. I also watched what he did. Professionally, he was raising a million dollars in scholarships for children in low-income communities to attend private schools. Personally, he moved into an inner-city neighborhood. His life revealed the meaning of James to me.

As the starting gun cracked for the 2002 St. Jude Memphis Marathon, two of my closest friends and I jumped out at a 7:04 pace. I gulped in the biting cold air and exhaled in faith, "I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength." But by mile 24, my legs had given out, and Philippians 4:13 was a distant memory.