Calling

I want to be a missionary.


Ever since I first read stories about Eric Liddle, Nate Saint, Jim Elliot, and David Livingston, God ignited a fire in my heart to go to unreached lands and tell others about Jesus. When I was water baptized at 12, my pastor's wife asked me, "Do you have a desire to be in missions?" I said, "Yes!" She said, "I had a picture of you on the mission field."


This is 24 years later, and I've gone to a closed country and spent three years living among the people. I was a mom, a friend, a wife. I prayed and worshipped and homeschooled my kids. I talked about Jesus and the Bible and the deep value we each have as God's creations.


Now I'm divorced, but the dream didn't die. The calling on my life didn't change. So what does that mean for me, a single mom with four young children? Certainly it means starting with service right here in my own backyard. It means giving to others and sharing Jesus with my American neighbors. But in the deepest places of my heart, there's a yearning for it to mean even more.


I want to go to the nations. I want to do it again and again and again. Once wasn't enough. Twice just won't do it. Set my family up in a hut on the outskirts of an African village. Send us into the middle of towering concrete buildings in an Asian city. Let me hold the orphaned children. Let me comfort those who are dying. Let us speak life to the deaf and dumb, both physically and spiritually.


Do I have the giftings and anointings that some do? No, but what does that matter? The calling isn't for me to take to God and say triumphantly, "See me! I'm so qualified!" On the contrary, the calling to reach the lost humbles and terrifies me. It makes me look deep inside and cry out, "Abba Father! I don't have what it takes, but I know what I want. And I know what I have: I have YOU!"


Yes, and Jesus is more than enough. He is always Enough.


Jesus knows the fiery flame that bursts awake within my heart when I go to Him with my questions: "What about my future, Daddy? What do You have for me and for my children? What do You want me to do? Where do You want us to go? Who do You want us to meet? How will all this come to be?"


He doesn't often give direct answers, and I'm waiting to see open doors. But as I wait, I've learned to keep the dream alive. Father's heart is the safest place to be, and it takes faith to walk with God. My Daddy is pleased when I say like Mary, "I don't see how it's going to happen, but have Your way. I'm all in, Daddy. I'm listening to You and staying nestled in the dreams You have for me."


"Faith, mighty faith, the promise sees and looks to God alone, laughs at impossibilities, and cries, 'It shall be done!'" ~Charles Wesley