Hans Egede set sail for Greenland in 1721 full of passion and adventure. Like many a missionary before him, his zeal for spreading the Gospel outpaced his preparation.  He had little idea of the obstacles he would face. For nearly twelve years, his mission made little progress, hampered in a huge way by difficulty mastering the tongue of the Inuits, the Eskimos inhabiting the land. Egede also suffered from another malady, one not altogether uncommon among present-day Christians: A stern demeanor that played out as impatience with the very people he sought to serve. Minus any apparent evidence of compassion, and at a linguistic loss to express even the fundamental principle-the love of Christ-in the language of the Inuit, Egede's mission seemed doom to failure. Indeed, the mission was actually recalled to Denmark in 1730 by the King.

     Egede remained behind, begging for more time to break the frozen hearts of the icy land, perhaps still not fully realizing his own heart had not yet melted.

     In 1733, a smallpox epidemic swept through the area, wiping out nearly two-thirds of the native population.  It was an epidemic carried to the Inuits by Egede's own mission, and it would eventually claim Egede's wife as well. Grieving the loss of his wife and stunned by the enormous realization of his own role in spreading this disease; the missionary's heart melted.  In truly heroic fashion, he ministered to the sick and dying; unlocking in his brokenness what had previously been a stone wall of reception to the Gospel message. 

     Imagine the courage it took to face the horrors of an epidemic he had at least partially caused; imagine the guilt he had to overcome as he realized how long it had taken him to find the compassion of Christ in his own heart!  "Give me more time" he begged the Danish king; but it was the King of Kings whose love would turn the tide, but only after it had changed the heart of Egede himself.

     The "hard soil" around the "fig trees" in our workplace may be hard because it lacks any evidence of the compassion of Christ from us. The "hard soil" around the "fig trees" in our culture may be hard because it lacks any evidence of the compassion of Christ from us. The "hard soil" may well be us, too busy living to learn to love; too busy being self-absorbed to realize the gap between Jesus and our coworkers is our own lack of compassion; our own lack of urgency. 

     Like Hans Egede, we sometimes find ourselves railing against the very people God sends us to serve, frustrated by our inability to get them to see things our way, or blinded by our own agendas.  Maybe, in fact, it is our own hearts which need melting.

     The language of our faith is disappearing from our culture, rapidly replaced by an impenetrable wall of rules and expectations.  We increasingly find ourselves struggling to express the Gospel in terms our colleagues, coworkers, friends and family can comprehend.

     Worse, the essence of our faith may be hiding from us, as we obscure the love of Christ behind a stern impatience-even righteous indignation-that causes us to see the people God places in our paths as adversaries instead of people in need of a Savior.

     We should be pleading with God to melt our hearts; to teach us to love our enemies and our friends; for surely the love of Christ is most attractive when it shows itself in us.