About a month ago I got coffee with a friend who had done extensive mission work. I wanted to hear about his experiences, because I knew we came from similar backgrounds. He and I talked about the struggles and blessings of communal living, the pros and cons of evangelism, the commonness and excitement of being a missionary. But my secret motive was to ascertain if I, in all of my fearful-enneagram 6-ness, could handle it.
In the midst of our conversation, he told me a story that nauseated me. But out of my nausea, I knew I am where I’m supposed to be in doing the World Race.
My friend and his mission team were on a home visit in Uganda when a group of men drug in a woman and threw her down. The men said this woman was possessed by demons, and they wanted my friend and his team to pray for her. Immediately the team began to pray aloud for the woman, but my friend stood back and watched the scene. After a bit he spoke with one of his teammates who’d studied psychology, and they saw before them a woman likely dealing with schizophrenia, clearly having been abused in her society. (To explain her probable experience, part of the culture’s process in testing a person for demons was to starve them, keep them away from society, or even to burn their hair. If the hair didn’t burn, they believed the person was possessed.)
In this moment my friend saw a woman mistreated by the very people claiming to desire the best for her, abused by those whose God is said to protect the abused.
No one had spoken to this woman, listened to this woman, paid attention to this woman other than to condemn her as possessed. Many had stood back and prayed for her, but none had not gotten close enough to see her as worthy, as human.
Amidst this scene my friend saw a person who had been deeply mistreated. So instead of standing back, he got down on his knees, grabbed her hand, and looked her in the eyes. He wanted her to know she was seen, that she was a human being.
Through this story I found my purpose in traveling the world. It’s not for the adventure, the resume-building experience, nor honestly is it to save people (because I can’t do the saving anyway).
My deepest desire is to show everyone–regardless of race, gender, religion, experience–that they are human. That their humanity, by the very fact that they have been created, makes them glorious, beautiful, and worthy of life and love. I want ALL people to be heard, loved, and valued.
And I deeply believe this was Jesus’ mission above everything else. First and foremost, he loved.
I, in my humanity, cannot save, but I can love.
Please join me in praying that this would be at the forefront of my mind. That I would leave all people with whom I come in contact feeling more loved than when I first met them. I don’t know what this will look like, but I honestly couldn’t be more excited to find out.
