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 East Asia 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 East Asia.
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