My name is Sakiusa Rokovasa Vakadewatabua, Jr. But I go by Zac. I grew up in Fiji, an island nation in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. The International Date Line cuts straight through my country, meaning that Fiji is the first to see every new morning and new year. We are literally at the very end of the earth. Childhood there was different than you might expect. Fiji is rich in clear blue waters and warm temperatures, but my four siblings and I grew up playing with sticks and stones. Often kids in our neighborhood played rugby, Fiji’s national sport. Except no one could afford a ball. Instead we played with empty soda bottles, even after someone inevitably got hit in the face. I come from a long line of pastors, from my great-grandpa, to my grandpa, to my father, to me. My family lived right next to our church, positioned near the river which flooded during rainy season. Routinely my father and the men of our congregation trekked downriver to fetch pieces of the church that swept away. I gave my life to Christ at a young age during a revival camp in my grandmother’s village. Throughout my life, God continues to remind me of His faithfulness. One reminder of His love was through Operation Christmas Child. This specific Monday afternoon when I was nine, my mom oversaw a special outreach event to present the Gospel to children in our community. She already told me there was a surprise at the end, but as her son, my name would be the last called – just in case they ran out. All day at school, I prayed, “Please let my name be called!” At the event, I waited anxiously as my mom started calling names, first the kids from the community, then those who regularly attended Sunday School. Soon the celebration drowned out all my worry. Infectious joy burst from my friends and in my own heart as they received their shoebox gifts. Finally, with the last shoebox in hand, my mom called my name. Excitement shot me forward to retrieve my very own shoebox gift. From coloring books and pencils to a jump rope and racecars, all these colorful items kept coming out of my shoebox. I didn’t have these new things before! But the jaw-dropping item which most reminded me of God’s love was a bright yellow yo-yo. I only ever saw this toy in stores that were financially out of reach. Now here it was in my shoebox, a special gift just for me. That yo-yo meant more to me than simple plastic and string. It was a tangible gift from someone around the world, given in faith, to remind me of God’s love. Going through my shoebox, God brought to my mind Romans 5:8, “While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” I was a Christian before, but this moment was impactful. We are all undeserving. But someone spent their time, money, and resources just to pack this beautiful gift for a child at the ends of the earth. Somebody around the world thought of me. After God opened doors for me to move to the United States years later, He called me to pastoral ministry at my local church in Kansas. Soon after starting my position, I rediscovered Operation Christmas Child. The youth group participated every year, and the task of leading the project fell to me. Ecstatic, I told my church about how I received one of these shoebox gifts, and the news caught fire! For the kids in my youth group, this put a real face to the mission they were doing and gave them a renewed drive to serve the Lord. Watching those kids pack over a hundred shoebox gifts as an outpouring of God’s love to others around the world, I was so overwhelmed that I cried with joy. I remember one child in my youth group praying over the shoebox gifts, “Thank you for what I’ve been blessed with that I may bless other kids.” That’s when it hit me that these kids have a profound understanding of what it means to show God’s love. Being a part of someone’s discipleship journey is incredibly humbling. Whether through pouring into the church I serve in Kansas or through packing a shoebox gift for someone around the world – I know that God blesses such faithful ministry because of my own testimony. Packing a shoebox gift may look like a little thing, but the impact is profound. It’s the fingerprint of God. My shoebox gift shaped me and continues to shape millions of lives all over the world.