The "M" word

Not marriage, Mon.
.....
I called my mom on the way to San Diego last night. I was quite ecstatic to share Pastor Roy’s message with her. Pastor Roy spoke about tentmaking in the world. He spoke about the need for professionals in addition to traditional missionaries. He mentioned Paul as an example. He worked full-time and ministered to everyone he encountered. I was so encouraged by the message because that’s pretty much my dream. I always dreamt of working in a different country, living with the natives, helping them, learning from them, sharing God’s love with them.

I have always shared this desire with my mom. She knows I dream of living in France, South Africa, North Korea and anywhere else in the world. I just never used the “M” word – missionary. I thought the missionary part was implied. I figured I was a missionary wherever I was anyway. I guess my communication wasn’t so clear. I thought my mom would be my biggest cheerleader. She always has been. She suggested that I visit China to see my uncle who frequently visits North Korea for business. She writes me encouraging letters. So, I was saddened and disappointed when my mom didn’t share my enthusiasm as I shared about Pastor Roy’s message. She never thought that I was going as a missionary. So, I have to talk to her some more and try to widen her perspective of missions. I don’t think she fully understands missions. Towards the end of the conversation, I felt too sad and drained to persuade.

After we hung up, I thought about our reality. I realized that for my mom this is shocking news. My mom waits for me to end my AmeriCorps service and get a secure job somewhere where I’ll receive a decent salary to support our family. I momentarily forgot about this reality.

My mom thinks that I can and should be a missionary wherever I am (here in the States). I agree, but what do I do about the burden I feel and tears that unnaturally form quickly when I think of the lost souls in the world?

Prayer is a given. There must be and is more.