CRANK IT UP

🔊 When Obedience Is Turned All the Way Up

The words filled the entire back window of the old pickup truck: CRANK IT UP.

No explanation.
No logo.
No apology.

Just a command—bold, oversized, impossible to ignore—set loose in ordinary traffic. It could have meant anything. Music. Speed. Attitude. Noise. Something cultural, fleeting, and forgettable. And yet, the phrase lingered—not because it explained itself, but because it didn’t.

⚠️ Commands have a way of doing that.

Most people crank things up for pleasure—for volume, adrenaline, or escape. Louder songs. Faster engines. Stronger thrills. But obedience has never worked that way. Biblical faith does not rise on hype or impulse. It does not grow louder by accident. It is turned up deliberately—often quietly—by men and women who decide that Jesus is worth more than comfort, safety, reputation, or even life itself.

📖 Scripture never presents obedience as moderate.
It calls for whole hearts, surrendered wills, and lives placed fully on the altar.
“Take up your cross.”
“Go.”
“Follow Me.”

These are not metaphors softened by time. They are commands that demand response.

🌍 Throughout the history of the Church, there have always been a few who refused to turn obedience down to a manageable level. They did not settle for what was reasonable. They did not wait until it felt safe. They did not ask what others would think. They simply obeyed—fully, visibly, and at great cost.

🔥 This is a record of six such lives.

These are not polished heroes.
They are not flawless saints.
They are not driven by recklessness or religious bravado.

They are men and women who cranked it up—not for applause, but for faithfulness. Not for excitement, but for Christ. Some faced rejection before they ever left home. Some walked knowingly into danger. Some endured years of loss, obscurity, or apparent failure. Some never lived to see the fruit of what they gave everything to begin.

⏳ And yet—none of them turned back.

🎵 While most people “crank it up” for a favorite song or a thrill, these six individuals cranked it up for an eternal frequency.

They went farther than expected.
Stayed longer than advised.
Paid more than was asked.

✝️ Not because they were extraordinary—but because obedience mattered more to them than self-preservation.

📜 These stories are told not to impress, but to bear witness.
Not to stir emotion, but to awaken resolve.

They stand as quiet testimonies to a truth the Church must never forget:

⚡ The gospel has always moved forward on the lives of those willing to turn obedience all the way up.

What follows are six stories of such lives.

🕊️ Read them slowly.
🧭 Hold them honestly.
🔥 And be prepared—for they ask a question that cannot be ignored:

What would it look like… if obedience were cranked all the way up again?

🕊️ The children survived. And so did the witness. Many of those she rescued would later testify that it was through Gladys that they first learned of Christ—not as a distant Western religion, but as a God who stayed with them through terror, hunger, and loss. Long after the war passed, her quiet faithfulness continued to ripple outward, touching lives she would never see and fruit she would never fully measure.

📖 Later, Gladys would say, “I wasn’t God’s first choice. But I was willing.”

That sentence cuts deep—because it exposes the lie we cling to. God is not looking for the most qualified. He is looking for the most surrendered.

⚡ Gladys Aylward did not crank it up with strength or brilliance.
She cranked it up with obedience that refused to turn back when comfort disappeared, when rejection stung, and when survival itself was uncertain.

Her life answers the question many whisper but rarely admit:
“What if I’m not enough?”

And her obedience answers back—quietly, fiercely, unmistakably:

Crank it up anyway. 🔥

The world would later call it a tragedy. Five men dead. Young families left behind. A mission seemingly cut short.

But heaven was not finished writing the story.

🌱 What followed stunned even the missionaries who remained. Instead of retreat, forgiveness moved forward. Jim’s widow, Elisabeth Elliot, and Nate’s sister, Rachel Saint, returned to the Waorani—not with protection, but with grace. They lived among the very people who had killed the men they loved.

And the gospel took root.

📖 Over time, the cycle of violence broke. Spears were laid down. Christ was received. Former warriors became believers. Some became evangelists to their own people. The Waorani did not merely hear the gospel—they were transformed by it.

🔥 Nate Saint and Jim Elliot cranked obedience up knowing the cost—and trusting God with the outcome.

They answer the question few want to ask:
What if following Jesus costs everything?

Their lives respond with quiet authority:
Obedience is never wasted.
Faithfulness is never forgotten.
And the gospel is always worth the price.

⚡ Crank it up—even when the cost is clear.

Jackie’s ministry was holistic. She opened rehabilitation centers for addicts, provided shelter for street children, and established educational programs where there had been none. She often slept in the same buildings as the people she served, prayed over them, and ministered during nights filled with fear and uncertainty.  Many who had no family, no future, no hope, began to see glimpses of a new life through her tireless presence. 🌅

She faced moments that would have broken most people. A teenager overdosed in her arms. A gang dispute turned deadly inches away. Neighbors threatened her for “interfering” in their affairs. Yet Jackie continued, often whispering to herself: “The only safety I have is in obedience. The only power I have is in Christ.”

Jackie later said, “The one thing God looks for is obedience, not ability.” And indeed, she had none of the worldly credentials that might have prepared her for this mission — only a surrendered life and relentless faith. Every day, she faced fear, filth, and heartbreak, yet she persisted.

Her story reminds the Church that obedience is never convenient. Courage is not absence of fear — it is faith in the face of darkness. Through her willingness to step into danger, countless lives were transformed. Families healed. Children restored. Lives redeemed. Every street she walked, every heart she touched, echoed the power of a surrendered life. 💖

⚡ Jackie Pullinger did not crank it up with strategies or plans. She cranked it up with obedience, presence, and love that refused to back down.

Her life answers today’s whispering objection: “But it’s too dangerous. I can’t make a difference.” And her answer — quiet, fierce, unmistakable — is: Crank it up anyway.

Yet God was working—slowly, deeply, beneath the surface.

🌱 Over time, trust grew.
🌱 Hearts opened.
🌱 Seeds took root.

Lilias also discovered that her artistic gift had not been taken from her—it had been redeemed.

She began using art not for galleries, but for discipleship. Her illustrations brought biblical truth to life for people who could not read. Her paintings and sketches became windows into the gospel, crossing language and cultural barriers where words alone could not.

She wrote devotional reflections—rich, poetic, and piercing—many of which would later be published and treasured worldwide. Words shaped by desert heat, long obedience, and hidden faithfulness.

Still, during her lifetime, few noticed.

No crowds gathered.
No fame followed.
No recognition returned.

Lilias Trotter died in 1928, largely unknown beyond the mission field she had quietly served for forty years.

But heaven knew her name.

Her life confronts a question modern believers rarely want to ask:

💭 What if obedience costs not comfort—but greatness itself?
💭 What if God asks us to lay down the very thing that makes us exceptional?

Lilias answers with her life.

⚡ She did not crank it up with platforms or praise.
⚡ She cranked it up by choosing faithfulness over fame, calling over acclaim, surrender over success.

Her obedience whispers to every gifted believer tempted to delay surrender:

You can keep your talent.
Or you can give God your life.

But you may not be allowed to do both.

And her legacy—hidden, quiet, and eternal—stands as a witness:

Crank it up anyway.

🚨 Time after time, guards waved him through. Cars full of Bibles went unsearched. Trunks packed with forbidden Scripture remained untouched. Andrew never claimed credit. He never pretended bravery. He knew fear intimately. But he believed something stronger: obedience mattered more than outcome.

Soon, he was no longer alone.

What began as one man’s obedience became a movement. Networks formed. Smuggling routes expanded. Bibles flowed into nations that declared God illegal. Churches once starving for Scripture found nourishment again. Underground believers whispered his name with gratitude: “God’s Smuggler.”

But Brother Andrew never loved the title.

He knew the cost.

⛓️ Friends were arrested. Couriers were beaten. Some disappeared into prisons they never left. Governments labeled him an enemy. Authorities tracked him. At times, death felt close enough to touch. Yet Andrew refused to stop—not because he was fearless, but because he believed fear was not a reason to disobey God.

🔥 He once said, “When Jesus tells you to love your enemies, He means it.”

That conviction carried him beyond smuggling Bibles into something even more dangerous: crossing ideological and religious lines with the gospel. Andrew met with militant leaders, extremists, and enemies of Christianity—not to compromise truth, but to embody Christ’s love where hatred ruled.

He believed that obedience without love becomes arrogance, and love without obedience becomes sentimentality. The gospel demanded both.

🌍 Over decades, Brother Andrew traveled to more than 70 countries, many closed to missionaries. He trained believers to serve quietly, courageously, and faithfully. The ministry that grew from his obedience—Open Doors—became a lifeline for persecuted Christians worldwide.

Yet even as the movement expanded, Andrew remained unchanged at heart.

No platform.
No spotlight.
No safety net.

Just obedience.

⚡ Brother Andrew did not crank it up with charisma or force.
He cranked it up by refusing to let fear make decisions God had already settled.

His life confronts the comfortable question still whispered today:
“Isn’t this too risky?”
“Isn’t this someone else’s calling?”

And his obedience answers back—calm, steady, unyielding:

“Fear is never the final authority. God is.”

🔥 Brother Andrew reminds the Church that obedience does not wait for permission, protection, or perfect conditions. It moves forward when God says go—even when borders are closed, guns are loaded, and the cost is unknown.

Crank it up anyway.

Mary did not preach from pulpits. She preached with presence. She stood between warring tribes to stop bloodshed. She walked alone into hostile villages where no outsider was welcome. She confronted injustice directly, not with anger, but with moral authority born of sacrifice. Again and again, malaria weakened her body. Again and again, she refused to leave. 🕊️

Her obedience came at great cost. Her health deteriorated. She suffered long stretches of isolation. Comfort was nonexistent. Recognition was irrelevant. But the fruit was undeniable. Practices once accepted as normal—infanticide, violence, exploitation—began to disappear where she lived. Communities changed because one woman decided that obedience mattered more than safety. ⚖️

Mary Slessor never built an empire. She never sought a platform. She simply stayed. And in staying, she proved something the modern Church often forgets: obedience is not dramatic because it is loud—it is powerful because it is faithful. God does not ask for fearlessness. He asks for faithfulness. And faithfulness often looks like walking farther than anyone thinks you should. 🔥

⚡ Mary Slessor did not crank it up with strength or strategy.
She cranked it up by walking into danger, staying when others left, and loving those everyone else abandoned.

Her life answers the hesitation we whisper when obedience gets costly:
“That’s too dangerous. That’s too much.”

And her obedience answers back—steady, quiet, unyielding:
Crank it up anyway. 🔥

🔥 CRANK IT UP — Until the Echo Fades

Every story in this series begins differently—but they all end the same way.
Not with comfort. Not with applause.
But with obedience that refused to turn down the volume when the cost became clear.

Gladys Aylward walked children through war when escape was easier.
Nate Saint and Jim Elliot laid down their lives where obedience demanded everything.
Jackie Pullinger stayed when darkness pressed close and power seemed small.
Lilias Trotter surrendered brilliance for faithfulness no one would ever praise.
Brother Andrew carried the Word where it was forbidden and feared.
Mary Slessor stood her ground when leaving would have saved her life.

Different places. Different personalities. Same call.

Crank it up.
Not in volume—but in obedience.
Not for recognition—but for faithfulness.
Not when it’s safe—but when it costs something.

God is still calling. Still sending. Still asking ordinary believers to trust Him beyond comfort, logic, and backup plans. The question has never been whether He is speaking.
The question is whether we will obey when the fire is hot and the way forward is narrow.

If this series stirred something in you, don’t let it fade into inspiration alone. Let it move you toward obedience that echoes beyond your lifetime.

For another man who cranked it up when everything burned, visit:
🔥 William Carey — Faith That Crossed an Ocean

And for a woman who poured out her life where no one was watching:
🔥 Amy Carmichael — A Life Poured Out Where No One Was Looking

The echo doesn’t end here.
It carries forward—through you. 🔥✝️