gratitude: lives of service

Today, I'm thankful for missionaries.

No, not the jumper-wearing, sneaker-sporting, hymn-singing crowd, although some missionaries enjoy those pastimes, but so do the nice ladies at your grandma's church.  That's not a bad thing.  No, I'm thankful for the men, women, and children who leave their homes and families behind to trot off to tra-la-la-land because they really think that's what God wants them to do.

They come in all shape and sizes.  I'd only have to show you a picture of our fridge, which mostly sports young people in their 20's, with a couple families sprinkled in.  But a couple of those prayer cards are for friends in sensitive areas that don't necessarily want missionaries in their midsts, so I can't go plastering their faces on the interweb.  They are normal looking.  People with families and careers and lives and they left all that security behind for a life overseas.

Being a missionary is scary and thrilling.  It sometimes means prolonged time away from loved ones with limited communication.  It always means sacrifice.  Even with today's technologies, internet can't always be available in their neck of the woods.  And even if it is, it's a sorry replacement for family traditions and celebrations.  Then there's the financial aspect of it all.  Many missionaries rely on the gifts of others to see them through each month rather than the salary of a steady job.  Asking others to give in order that you might work is humbling and frightening.  However, many see it as the greatest gift - to watch God provide for their needs through others, a reminder that every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father who does not change.  He is faithful.  I knew this best in the days when I prepared to go to Kenya as a career missionary.  Something about having the rug of structure and salary ripped out from under you turns those Sunday school lessons into a daily reality.

They go not because it's a rite of passage or a requirement of the church, but because they see their place in the bigger picture as ones to facilitate the spread of the gospel in the remotest parts of the earth.  They go because they can't ignore the quiet words in their ear.  They might go reluctantly or willingly, but they go.  And they trust.  And they serve in so many ways.  When I was considering whether to move to Africa with a mission or as a salaried teacher at an international school, I was privileged to spend a few weeks with some new missionaries.  I was struck by both their normalcy (no jean jumpers here!) and their varied professions.  Teachers, engineers, construction workers, therapists, counselors, biologists, veterinarians, artists, cooks, moms, dads, pastors, business men, doctors, dentists, WHATEVER . . . they were all there and they were all useful.

I am so thankful for these many who serve both far and near, because we can't do that right now.  Matt and I met when we were both using our skills on the mission field, but now we're back in the States.  It might be a short while, it might be forever, but while we're here we lift up our friends overseas in prayer and remember them often, because they're working where we can't.  We walk with you in your daily struggles and joys and we thank God for your lives of service.