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| (not actual picture...only my imaginings) |
As teens, our friends had heard about missionaries like Wycliff, Carmichal, and Elliot, but always as a history lesson to encourage the now. All the dangerous work had been done, they thought.
But then, they had a profound realization:
There are still entire cultures that have never heard the name of Jesus.
And each year, millions of people die without ever hearing of the God who loved them and died to buy their freedom from death. So our friends went, committing to a lifetime of language learning, relationship-building, and sacrificial living so that the statistic could change.
I was sitting there on the other couch, feeling as if I had swallowed a bag of hot marbles. What am I doing here while people are dying? I wondered. The faces from the pictures were still there when I shut my eyes, and I had a sudden urge to quit my job, sell my car, and book a flight. What if I missed my calling? I even felt a throb of jealousy, that they were living my old dream while I did laundry and brought home paychecks.
My response was not entirely wrong; it is right to be heartbroken over the eternal death of millions of people. If we feel more sadness over a flat tire or a disappointing football game, we need to do a serious gut check.
But I have a tendency to want to rescue people myself, rather than looking to the Rescuer.
An even bigger confession: I have a deep, inner aversion to averageness. Even as a 2nd grader, I hated earning less than an A+ on school assignments. As a teenager, when I pictured my future, it never included the typical elements of the American Dream. I never wanted the picket fence, the cul-de-sac, the 2.5 kids or the fat paycheck. I wanted to be 100% sold out for Jesus and His Kingdom. In my mind, that meant that I would live sacrificially, give extravagantly, and home school my nine children while my husband and I went to the furthest corners of the globe with the good news that Jesus reconciles broken people.
And none of this is bad in the least. Even now, many godly people are living this lifestyle and giving all the glory to Jesus.
But do I desire this radical lifestyle because Jesus desires it from me? Or is it because I want to be "a cut above" your average Jesus-follower? Maybe it's a mix. Most of my movitations are, if I get real with myself.
Truth: even good activities can be downright disobedient if God hasn't asked you to do them.
(King Saul found that out the hard way. For his story, check out 1 Samuel 15:22)
As I've prayed and journaled through these thoughts, here are some in-progress conclusions:
1) I should make sure my heart is in a position of continual availability to go. Maybe the answer I have taken as "no" is in reality "not yet." If I knew He would send me outside the US in five years, how would that knowledge affect the way I live today? As my cousin, Jeremy recently tweeted: "Your vision of the future affects the decisions of your life today. Without a heart set on eternity you will live for only temporary things."
2) I should be humble enough to realize that Jesus may want me to live a life of faithfulness and relative obscurity, devoid of the moving stories, exotic passport stamps or flashy sacrifices. Am I willing to accept obscurity, the life of the suburban soccer mom and "sideline involvement" in missions if that's what Jesus asks of me? It takes faith to believe that being still and patient can accomplish as much as radical action. Staying can be its own sacrifice, and secret prayer may be more news-worthy in Heaven than any foreign travels on earth.
*The "Bright Mountain People" are called by a pseudonym here, to protect our friends and other workers who bring them the Good News.
But then, they had a profound realization:
There are still entire cultures that have never heard the name of Jesus.
And each year, millions of people die without ever hearing of the God who loved them and died to buy their freedom from death. So our friends went, committing to a lifetime of language learning, relationship-building, and sacrificial living so that the statistic could change.
I was sitting there on the other couch, feeling as if I had swallowed a bag of hot marbles. What am I doing here while people are dying? I wondered. The faces from the pictures were still there when I shut my eyes, and I had a sudden urge to quit my job, sell my car, and book a flight. What if I missed my calling? I even felt a throb of jealousy, that they were living my old dream while I did laundry and brought home paychecks.
My response was not entirely wrong; it is right to be heartbroken over the eternal death of millions of people. If we feel more sadness over a flat tire or a disappointing football game, we need to do a serious gut check.
But I have a tendency to want to rescue people myself, rather than looking to the Rescuer.
An even bigger confession: I have a deep, inner aversion to averageness. Even as a 2nd grader, I hated earning less than an A+ on school assignments. As a teenager, when I pictured my future, it never included the typical elements of the American Dream. I never wanted the picket fence, the cul-de-sac, the 2.5 kids or the fat paycheck. I wanted to be 100% sold out for Jesus and His Kingdom. In my mind, that meant that I would live sacrificially, give extravagantly, and home school my nine children while my husband and I went to the furthest corners of the globe with the good news that Jesus reconciles broken people.
And none of this is bad in the least. Even now, many godly people are living this lifestyle and giving all the glory to Jesus.
But do I desire this radical lifestyle because Jesus desires it from me? Or is it because I want to be "a cut above" your average Jesus-follower? Maybe it's a mix. Most of my movitations are, if I get real with myself.
Truth: even good activities can be downright disobedient if God hasn't asked you to do them.
(King Saul found that out the hard way. For his story, check out 1 Samuel 15:22)
As I've prayed and journaled through these thoughts, here are some in-progress conclusions:
1) I should make sure my heart is in a position of continual availability to go. Maybe the answer I have taken as "no" is in reality "not yet." If I knew He would send me outside the US in five years, how would that knowledge affect the way I live today? As my cousin, Jeremy recently tweeted: "Your vision of the future affects the decisions of your life today. Without a heart set on eternity you will live for only temporary things."
2) I should be humble enough to realize that Jesus may want me to live a life of faithfulness and relative obscurity, devoid of the moving stories, exotic passport stamps or flashy sacrifices. Am I willing to accept obscurity, the life of the suburban soccer mom and "sideline involvement" in missions if that's what Jesus asks of me? It takes faith to believe that being still and patient can accomplish as much as radical action. Staying can be its own sacrifice, and secret prayer may be more news-worthy in Heaven than any foreign travels on earth.
*The "Bright Mountain People" are called by a pseudonym here, to protect our friends and other workers who bring them the Good News.
Wow, we are totally on the same page. My parents were missionaries in Nepal when I was little and I've always felt that aversion to ordinary too. I feel like growing up, I was always a 3rd culture kid who never quite fit here. I married my husband with the intent that we'd work for a few years to save and then go overseas. And then everything changed and it was clear that we had a lot of other things to do and God hadn't just not opened the doors but actively closed them. That was 16 years ago and it's been a hard wrestling ever since but it's so true that this is where God has me and I'm not being obedient longing for a call He's yet to give. Thanks for visiting my blog. It's been fun reading such kindred thoughts here.
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