Missionary.
It seems like an innocent enough word. People think nice thoughts when they hear it. They think things like "Oh! You’re special. You’re a chosen one. You are changing the world."
My thoughts? " Please God, don’t pick me!! That means living in a hut in the middle of the African bush with no electricity, no running water, no civilization, and lions for my closest neighbors. I don’t want to go to Africa!!"
Well, I’m going to Africa. Among a few other places I may or may not have previously said I would never go to.
Thanks a lot God. You are sooo funny.
And people keep trying to tell me I’m now going to be a missionary. Yet, I still refuse to own the word. I was filling out a government form the other day and it asked for my employment. My mom tried to tell me to put missionary. I basically flat out refused and said I would rather tell the world I’m unemployed.
In my life the word missionary means doing a lot of things I’m not comfortable doing. Like asking people for money and giving up the comforts I enjoy as an American. I really enjoy my hot showers that are however long I want them to be. I love having my own bedroom, bathroom, and personal space. Central heating and air are like a best friend to me. I need my bed. We have a long standing love affair going on that I am not quite ready to give up yet. Even if it’s only temporary.
So does this make me a bad pseudo-missionary? Probably. But I am currently ok with that. God and I are working on my love/hate relationship with the m-word. I love it for other people. I hate it being applied to myself. For now, this will have to be good enough.
What are your thoughts? What do you think of when you hear the word “missionary”?
