In the early 90s, a team of Crossworld workers came to Grenoble, France, to collaborate with several French families on a church plant. As often happens with church plants, there were nearly twice as many children as there were adults. That’s where I come in.

I was one of the French kids — and a disturbingly productive shenanigan machine. Nonetheless, I grew to love and respect the Crossworld workers who invested in my church. I noticed their sacrificial efforts that embodied Jesus' love for me and those around me. When most adults dreaded me, they talked to me. They let me practice my English, and they opened my mind and heart to the rest of the world. It was a Crossworld worker who baptized me and discipled me … and who also taught me to make cookies and brownies.

As I grew up, I was blessed with what the French school system called “limitless potential,” and I had the choice to do almost anything with my life. But I was plagued by indecision. Each possibility from racecar driver to neurosurgeon felt like painfully giving up everything else. But one morning it was almost instantly clear: I would become a cross-cultural worker like those who had discipled me. I realized I could use my trade as a teacher to reach people who have never heard the name of Jesus. 

Now a few years later, my wife and I are Crossworld workers ourselves, making disciples in the world’s least-reached marketplaces.

It all began with Crossworld workers planting a church in the French Alps. All the fruit that comes from the ministry I participate in is ultimately God’s, of course. But it’s also theirs. They spent their lives in France making not just disciples, but disciple-makers — an investment that will make an impact for generations to come.

How can you make an impact for generations to come? Learn how at crossworld.org/go.

Matthieu and his wife, Rose, make disciples in France.

The people in this story are real, but their names have been changed to protect their privacy.