Dear Stranger,
You asked me a question, “Do you enjoy missionary work?”
Thank you for asking this question. I didn’t realize one question could bring so many different emotions. I wonder what your definition of “enjoy” is. I’m not entirely sure how to answer it. I could just say a simply yes, because on most days that is the case and for sure the easier route. But then there are days, like the day you asked, when I am entirely annoyed that this is even a question. Why do we have to be on a mission trip, for this question to be asked?
Had you asked me this while preparing for the race, I would have said Y E S without hesitation. But as I seek God’s face, daily, I have a deeper understanding about what life is. AIM (the organization that I am with) has this saying, “Ministry is Life, Life is Ministry” and to some of my squad mates, it’s annoying and they want to scratch their eardrums when they hear it. But the reality of it, is there is so much truth to it. Isn’t our sole purpose in life, to spread His teachings to all nations of the world?
The day you asked this seemingly simple question was also the day I was convicted for complaining about the appearance of my bible. I had noticed that I couldn’t tell if it was the juice from Phò in Vietnam, making Psalms 139 a little tricky to read, or if it’s from the unending amount of tears that I have cried while trying to comprehend the fact that there was no mistake made when I was created. It was a gift from my parents for my twenty first birthday. Although my mom adores my growth from actually reading the book she bought me, I see is the African dirt that has permanently stained the exterior.
While I was sitting there complaining about how the race has “ruined” my birthday present, God so gently reminded of what my team and I had done in the morning. We moved 150 boxes of bibles from one shed to another. With little giggles after completing the task, not sure if what we did was illegal or not, we went and sat in a coffee shop to openly read ours.
We’re in a country where you can’t even own a bible unless it’s registered with the government. Who am I, that I get to openly sit in a closed country and be comforted by the Word? My answer is no, I don’t enjoy missionary work.
It’s hard, it’s not easy and I don’t always see the fruit of the work that I am doing. I don’t enjoy the nights I spend more time trying to erase the images of homeless eating out of the same trash piles as the dogs, than sleeping. I don’t enjoy coming home to several meals and a bed to sleep in. I don’t enjoy being able to wash the dirt off my body, even if it is just from a bucket of water. I don’t enjoy being able to openly speak of my relationship with God, when the voices of the people I am surrounded by are silenced by a government. But I love that I am called to be on mission with God. To bring the Kingdom of Heaven to Earth. I love that I get to run every morning on the dirty streets of Laos, praying out loud, trusting that God is going to bring freedom to every. single. one. of. the. monks. that sees me every morning. And I do enjoy the abundant life that come from believing in the God who made it possible to do such a type of work.
So it’s my turn to ask you, do you enjoy missionary work? Because you, just as much as I am, are called to live on mission. Here, or there.
Because They Haven’t Heard,
Calla Rae
