A man with a Bible discreetly concealed in a plastic grocery bag looks curiously at the faces around him on the subway. The door of the metro opens, and people jostle to get out and go on their way. Up the steps of the subway the hurried feet of a thousand souls disappear into the night. Lights glow from the corner store where bread, sodas, cigarettes and chips are sold. The man crosses a street and pauses to buy two pounds of fresh pistachio baklava for a gift and then walks down an unlit alley. His destination is a Muslim family in the heart of a Muslim city. As the man looks up he remembers the directions he was told: “Watch for a blue light on our balcony.” The family has invited him for dinner. But more than a meal, the father of the home has asked him to bring a Bible in his language. What a thrill for this English teacher, a tentmaker missionary! He scans the balconies ahead for the blue light. Sharing the Bible is this tentmaker’s thrill. What’s yours?

Maybe you think of missions as a faraway thing—distant lands, distant languages, distant cultures and ways of thinking. But don’t confuse the foreign-mission frontier with your practical mission frontier—wherever you find yourself. Your present contacts and daily conversations are the cutting edge of what God is doing through you. They are your soul-winning education. Whomever you make eye contact with today is your practical mission frontier.

Recently, I was traveling with my family from Texas and stopped at Taco Bell. The woman who took our order had a tattooed neck and was missing two front teeth. She had the look of a spent soul tired of life. Still, she was pleasant and apologized when our order was delayed. I started chatting with her and learned that she worked at both Taco Bell and Del Taco. “I guess I must just be created to make tacos,” she shrugged. Her answer sounded so fatalistic and sad to me that suddenly I didn’t see a rough fast-food worker, but a person. Her name badge said “Barbara.”

Our burritos were still in the order queue as the workers in the back helped drive-through customers, so I asked Barbara, “Did you grow up here?”

“Yes,” she said, and so I began asking about her life. “I have to work two jobs so I can take care of my daughter and my aunt, who has MS. It’s not easy, but I sure am glad to be able to work.”

I thought to myself, How quickly I judged this person by her appearance, yet she has a big, compassionate heart. God have mercy on me.

Excusing myself for a moment, I went to my car and got a small tract called “A Love Letter from Jesus.” I gave it Barbara. “I think you will enjoy this.”

“Thank you!” she said as she read the title. Then she sighed. “I can especially use this right now, because my sister just killed my niece.”

Did I hear that correctly?! My wife and I were stunned. “What did you say?” we asked.

Barbara looked at us sadly. “She smothered her purposely. She admitted it to the police. The baby was just a newborn.” Taking a deep breath, she said, “I was so looking forward to being an aunt. Now my sister is likely going to prison.”

This wasn’t a conversation I had ever imagined having over a Taco Bell counter. And where were those burritos?

As we kept talking with Barbara, my wife went out to the car and brought back two little New Testament Bibles. “Do you ever read the Bible?”

“Oh yes,” said Barbara. “Every night after I get my aunt and daughter into bed. But I will enjoy this small one. I can carry it with me.” My wife beamed at the joy of knowing the gift was appreciated. Barbara asked politely, “Do you need that second Bible? If not, I would like to give it to a friend at Del Taco.”

Wondering why our order was taking so long, Barbara went back and discovered that it had been skipped! Barbara came around the register, and we prayed for her. She shed thankful tears. With a gap-toothed grin she smiled at us as she clutched her Bible. “I really needed that.” My wife gave her a hug as I picked up our bag of long-overdue burritos.

In the car, I said to Esther, “Never in my long burrito-buying career has Taco Bell ever skipped my order. I think God arranged that.”

“I have to believe it was God,” Esther said. “And Barbara didn’t even start sharing all that pain until after you gave her that tract.”

Our oldest boy commented, “God saw there was something more important than ‘fast’ food!”

Your practical mission frontier is around you every day. Distant foreign mission work is profoundly important (I know, having lived in a distant Muslim land). In fact, I was that man looking for that balcony light in a Muslim city. What I learned is that once you arrive in a foreign land, it all becomes local mission. The practical mission frontier is where your feet touch the ground.

In a Muslim city somewhere on this earth tonight, someone has left a light on their balcony as a signal that they are ready for a Bible believer to come to them. You can’t see it; nor can I. We are too far away. But perhaps someone reading this can go as a tentmaker and work on that mission frontier. But until that day, who in your proximity is sending signals that they need a prayer, a hug or a Bible lesson? The whole world is local mission to God, and you very well could be the only worker He has today in the places where you will go. You are what God has planned for this moment. Speak up for Jesus.

Check out www.gotential.org to find out more about serving as a tentmaker.

• Twitter