In case you haven’t heard…I’m in Malaysia. I am thoroughly enjoying all the different cultures here. We are staying on the island of Penang, in an apartment in what is considered Little India. We are working with YWAM (Youth with a Mission) and serving meals to the homeless. My team and I arrived last Tuesday. We have learned a lot about the area through an orientation with our contact, Peter, and also just living among the locals. Here are some facts I learned…
– 27 million people live in Malaysia
– The people are made up of Malays, Chinese, Indian and Indigenous tribes
– The national language is Bahasa
– The currency is Ringgit
– It is considered rude to point with the forefinger
We have been told that the best food in the world is in Malaysia, and that the best food in Malaysia is in Penang. I am sure this statement is highly debatable, but let’s just take it for what it’s worth. We have definitely been encouraged to try some new dishes and I have been proud of myself for trying many different things here. To my dismay, however, I was tricked into trying soup that was made from steer penis over the weekend. Yes…you read that correctly. No need to reread, and it is definitely not something I recommend! (Thanks Sarah O….read her blog about it. She was the master mind behind the deception)
Trying some Indian food with our contact Peter
This past Sunday we went to a church service at Grace Sanctuary. I was surprised and glad that the sermon and all the songs were in English. It felt similar to a charismatic service you would find in America. I found myself doing something I have never done in front of an audience before…I shared my testimony. While initially I was nervous, I knew that it was time. After sharing, I spoke about the call of a missionary. I have been struggling with that word and my newfound identity.
Missionary…I find myself almost cringing at that word because of the images that I’ve always conjured up in my head–people dressed in absurd clothing and out of touch with the world. These thoughts all came about after reading another Word Racer’s status on facebook that read something like, “Dude, I’m a missionary. Weird.” I read that and found myself nodding in agreement. Then the Lord reminded me of the messages my pastor had been preaching back home. (Go Anthem!) While missionary often evokes the thought of traveling to a foreign land, the Christian life is all about living on mission. To share the good news with others, you don’t need to move across the country. You can do this anywhere you live, work, etc. Some people are called to leave everything behind, while others are called to stay right where they are. I am not any better than the person fulfilling their mission while in the states. I have simply answered the call that I felt the Lord placed in front of me. Jesus came with a mission to accomplish, and he left us behind with the same purpose/mission. All we have to be is willing and available.
When I return to the states at the end of July, I don’t retire or resign from being a missionary just because I will no longer be on foreign soil. As a Christian, I am a missionary regardless of where I am living or am laying my head at night. Needless to say…I have been convicted to change my mind about the word missionary and am coming around to the idea of being referred to as one. After all, I did sign up for AIM…Adventures In Missions…and the World Race is an 11 month mission trip. I am a missionary. There I said it…but the thing is. I have already been a missionary, and will go right on being one when I return.
When I return to the states at the end of July, I don’t retire or resign from being a missionary just because I will no longer be on foreign soil. As a Christian, I am a missionary regardless of where I am living or am laying my head at night. Needless to say…I have been convicted to change my mind about the word missionary and am coming around to the idea of being referred to as one. After all, I did sign up for AIM…Adventures In Missions…and the World Race is an 11 month mission trip. I am a missionary. There I said it…but the thing is. I have already been a missionary, and will go right on being one when I return.
On my bunk bed at the apartment…I’m holding a fave snack–Munchys
When I do lay down at night, I find myself thanking God for shelter, for food, for all my teeth (homeless people tend to not have very many), and for all of you. Thank you for your support, love, and friendship. I miss you and feel so blessed to have you in my life. Make sure you keep me posted on your life as well. While I have limited time to connect, I would love to hear from you via email or just a short comment below. Yeah, I admit it. Homesickness has crept up a time or two this week….and I am missing YOU! Much love!
