I was discipled into what I call the “radical movement.” The year I went to college for a year-long missions program was the same year David Platt’s Radical was published. What had been building up in my heart—a desire to serve “the least of these” and go to the mission field—was fueled by not only this book, but the movement around it.
The most influential voices around me instilled the idea that obedience to Jesus was synonymous with giving up everything you have—all your comforts and success—to go to the nations and declare the gospel to those who have never heard.
I embraced that vision, spending two semesters overseas and committing to a life that meant my earthly gain would be set aside for the Kingdom of God. Much of the radical movement’s emphasis was undeniably necessary and transformative. Christians, especially in the West, should have our comfortable Christianity challenged, especially when our discipleship often shows no signs of sacrifice. Most of us can probably think of ways that we’re holding on to things we love more than Jesus, and every Christian is called to lay aside these lesser loves for the greatest Love of all (Luke 9:23).
Yet many of us who came of age in the radical era absorbed an unintended lesson: The highest form of obedience is leaving everything behind to become a missionary.
After graduating college, I began participating in other ministries and opportunities that weren’t necessarily as “radical” as I had learned I should be. As friends moved overseas, I wondered whether signing a lease, building a career, and furnishing an apartment were signs that I was settling for less than radical obedience. I believed that others around me would judge these choices for not being radical enough, and even received some comments in this vein. I still believed Jesus called me to radical, costly obedience, but my vision of what that meant was far too narrow.
Sometimes, obedience means leaving your home to go to the nations. Sometimes, obedience is remaining where God has you, laying down a dream, offering your gifts for God’s purposes, or loving your neighbors. Always, obedience is surrender. I didn’t need a smaller view of obedience, but a more robust one.
One of the most helpful guides for me when thinking about obedience is Lilias Trotter, an artist and missionary. Her story is not well known, but is often told as though she abandoned art entirely to become a missionary. While Trotter did surrender her pursuit of artistic recognition, she continued to use her art to share the gospel for forty years of ministry in Algeria. Her story helped me realize that obedience is not always about abandoning our gifts and ambitions.[1] It is about surrendering them to Christ and asking Him to establish the work of our hands (Ps. 90:17). Trotter did not stop being an artist when she became a missionary. She simply stopped pursuing artistic recognition as her primary aim. Obedience is surrendering everything to the lordship of Christ.
Today, I still believe we need more missionaries heading to unreached nations, not less. I believe we need more Christians who are foster parents, work in crisis pregnancy centers, feed the hungry, and provide medical care for those in need, not less. I believe we should regularly ask the Lord what we need to surrender to His will. And I also believe that whether you are a chief financial officer, a pastry chef, a cashier, a truck driver, an artist, or a missionary, you are called to do all things to the glory of God (1 Cor. 10:31).
The question is not whether your life appears radical enough to other Christians. The question is whether all that you have—your gifts, ambitions, career, possessions, relationships, and future—is surrendered to Christ. Obedience may lead you across the ocean or across the street, but it will always result in a radical life, because a radical life is one that belongs to God.
[1] For more on Lilias Trotter, see Allyson Howell, “By Faith Women: Lilias Trotter,” Substack, June 9, 2026, https://allysonmhowell.substack.com/p/if-she-chose-another-path-you-might.