CLEARLY REMEMBER THE DAY I decided how I wanted to die.

It was Sunday, August 31, 1997—the morning of my friend’s wedding in the little town of Eckert, Colorado. As I entered the crowded dining room of the hotel where I was staying, all eyes were riveted on the TV. For hours afterward the headlines blared the solemn news of Princess Diana’s untimely death and summarized her truncated life.

Each documentary centered on Princess Di’s uncommon royal compassion for the common person—her advocacy for AIDS patients, for example, or her campaign for land mine eradication. She had dedicated her life to people. Now she was being mourned around the globe.

Watching the world mourn Diana’s death, I learned something important: What we do just for ourselves dies with us. But what we do for others remains—and is immortal. Since then I’ve chosen the following quote as my personal motto: “The best use of life is to invest it in something which will outlast life” (William James, 1842-1910). I like how this motto eliminates from life’s goals materialistic nonessentials and narrows my vision to one single focus:  people.

One look at me, and you could determine I’m one of those GenXers—one with an intense desire for bottom-line Christianity. It’s got to be real. Then there is my personality. I’m not gifted with the soul-winning talents of preaching, giving Bible studies, holding evangelistic meetings, or knocking on doors.

So if I am really going to stick with my life’s motto—investing myself in things that outlast my life—I need a career that will allow me to invest in people through a medium that shares Christ in a real way. Thankfully, God blessed me with the opportunity to do that at the Adventist Development and Relief Agency (ADRA)—the humanitarian arm of my church. For ADRA International, our mission is to share the “gospel in work boots.” It’s tangible Christianity.

ecently I returned from a three-and-a-half-week ADRA trip to Central and South America. I was in Costa Rica for the first two weeks, at ADRA’s Professional Leadership Institute. During morning worship our instructor shared something with our class that literally opened my eyes. My brain was chewing on her thoughts for the rest of my trip. Here’s what I’ve been thinking . . .

Let me ask you, What is it that characterizes who will be in heaven and who won’t be? Is it keeping the Sabbath? Is it knowing the 27 Adventist fundamental beliefs? Is it being  Seventh-day Adventists? Is it being baptized? Actually the answer is clear in Scripture. Here are the characteristics:

“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’ . . . The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’ Then he will say to those on his left,” “‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’ Then they will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life” (Matt. 25:34-41, 45, 46, NIV).

The passage challenged me. If Christ is delaying His return, maybe the blame doesn’t belong so much on the “soul winners”—the pastors, evangelists, and theologians. Instead it rests perhaps on the shoulders of my colleagues and me. As humanitarian professionals, our role is to facilitate your opportunity and ability to see Jesus in “the least of these.” The mission of ADRA enables you—and our church at large—to see Jesus in “the least of these.” ADRA has a deeply held belief that human life is infinitely valuable, that every person has inherent dignity, and that as Christians, we’ve been commissioned to serve.

fter I finished this two-week class, I took off for South America, looking for Jesus. And I found Him. In Guyana I saw Him in mothers and fathers who were sacrificing to put their children in an ADRA school so that these little ones would have opportunities their parents never had.

I also saw Jesus in mothers living in a small village that had been ravaged by malaria. They had stood by helplessly as the disease prematurely robbed young and old of their future. ADRA saw the need and provided sewing machines and materials, and taught sewing classes. And because they saw Jesus in each other, women are now feverishly sewing treated mosquito nets as part of an anti-malaria project in their community.

Then I spotted Jesus in Venezuela, where thousands of mudslide survivors, having lost everything, were crowded together in warehouses. To relieve their suffering, ADRA had provided bunk beds, mattresses, hygiene kits, 30-day food supply bags, and cleaning supplies. I interviewed a health professional who worked in a MEDEVAC helicopter for endless hours, sweeping over housetops to rescue survivors frantically huddled on their rooftops. Hour after hour, trip after trip, he went back and back again, to rescue those in imminent danger of being washed away.

He told me of how he’d seen Jesus in a woman who worked to help several people from her community load onto the rescue helicopter. They filled one helicopter to capacity, took them to a safe place, then came back again; and she continued selflessly loading more people on before herself. Full for a second time, the helicopter took off again, the pilot promising to return a third time to rescue this good Samaritan. But her selflessness cost her life, and the pilot’s quick return did not beat the ravages of the rain. She and all the structures that previously surrounded her washed away in an instant before she could be picked up.

Reflecting on the memory of her, I saw Jesus in Venezuela.

Last, I saw Jesus in Ecuador—in two ADRA health-care nurses who daily risk their lives in a very poor and dangerous community.

And why do they do it? Because they see Jesus in the children who die too soon, because mothers don’t know how—nor have the opportunity or the resources—to raise healthy children. The ADRA nurses have trained community leaders who in turn are educating their neighbors about healthy pregnancies, simple home health care, the importance of breast-feeding and immunizations, how to prepare and select nutritional food, etc.

ook around you. Are you seeing Jesus “in the least of these”?  Do you recognize them as persons of infinite value to God? Do you understand that it could be you if you had been born into different circumstances or hit by a sudden disaster?  If it were Jesus in need, what quality of clothing would you send Him? What food would you give Him? What water would you provide? Would you let Him starve to death? Would you let His children die for lack of health care? Would you let Him sleep in a box under the bridge every night? How easily could you forget about Him? Would you look at Him with respect and compassion or with pity and apathy?

Bring it closer home. Maybe you can’t relate to my world (which includes many encounters in developing countries). Can you see Jesus in your world?  How many wars would we have if we saw Jesus in each other? How many divorces would be eliminated? How would employee-employer relationships change if we saw Jesus in each other? How would your life change today if you knew your eternal salvation was based on your vision? Can you see Jesus? Do you see Him in your children? Children, do you see Him in your parents? Do you see Him in your coworkers? Do you see Him in the teens and GenXers in your church who wear things that you wouldn’t and who worship to music you can’t? Teenagers and GenXers, can we see Jesus in our elders who worship differently from us but whose relationship with Christ has a depth and history we’d do well to learn?

If we can’t see Jesus within the body of Christ, will our vision be too clouded to see Jesus in “the least of these”? If we can’t see Jesus, well, you know the consequences. Christ is coming soon, and He’s coming to retrieve only those who seek a 20/20 vision for recognizing Jesus in “the least of these.”

o back to my death wish. To me, my life focus as a Christian humanitarian professional at ADRA International is about people and leaving things better than I found them—investing in the future. As a result, I’ve dedicated my career to the direct betterment of people’s lives—investing in a chapter of someone’s life chronicle, so to speak.

My death wish defines exactly how I want to leave the earth: I want the world to be a better place because I lived here. And I want people to say their lives were better because I passed through it.

I agree with the framed quote hanging in my office, “The wisdom of a civilization can best be judged by the condition in which they left the earth.”  I hope when I’m gone the world will mourn my death as the loss of one who hastened Christ’s return because, as a humanitarian professional, I reflected a light that bettered people’s vision to see Jesus in “the least of these.”

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Michelle L. Oetman is an assistant for marketing and development at ADRA International, with headquarters in Silver Spring, Maryland.