Missionaries are ordinary, everyday people. I grew up thinking they were superspirtual: that they didn't need money to live on because they had an extra dose of Jesus and that their kids were delighted to receive old clothes and ragged toys because they were somehow "different". Now I know better. I fall under the category of "missionary," and I have one of those kids who is supposed to be different but really isn't. I thought becoming a missionary meant that I would have great stories to tell that would wow my Christian friends back home. My story however, is of an ordinary person, struggling to learn a foreign language, frustrated because there is no such thing as privacy where I live, and battling thoughts of criticism directed toward the people I am here to love. And my story is also about how God is changing this everyday gal, from the inside out, to live a life of divine proportions. Mine is a marvelous story because He brought me all the way to West Africa to show me that I am complete in Him. He is teaching this weak individual, with human limitations and hang-ups, that His power truly is manifested in weakness. God's promises become real as I encounter the world outside or as I crack open the language book to study. I am learning that it is not just about victories. It is also about obedience that costs, unrecognized sacrifices and unanswered questions. Ultimately, it is about following Christ. -Worker in West Africa
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