Purchased, Not Sold

I've spent a lot of time pondering and written many a blog post in the past about how I kept waiting to feel like a "real" grownup. A "real" teacher. A "real" professional. A "real" mature Christian. Now, I sometimes find myself waiting to feel like a "real" missionary. Hmmm... amazing how that works.

Here's the problem with that - there's no such thing as An Idiot's Guide to Becoming a Missionary or  How to Be a Missionary for Dummies. Trust me - we looked! Though there are several books that have been written about becoming a missionary, there is no one, single, definitive guide except for the Bible. (Then again, what more could you need than that!?) What's conflicting, though, is that many of the human resources that have been written don't necessarily line up with the original mandates and instructions given in Matthew 28:19, Mark 16:15, Luke 9:30, Acts 13, etc.

To be honest, much of what we read about becoming missionaries (aside from the Bible) before we moved down here had to do with fundraising. With quantifying what your work is worth. With selling yourself and what you do. <sigh> Seriously, people!? This is what's available out there? This is what people are going to come across in their search for answers? This is the advice you have to give people going into the mission field? If that view of mission work is true, and success is only about what's the most exciting or interesting in people's minds, then we will never, ever measure up.We will never be "real" missionaries.

If they're right, how can we possibly say to anyone that our work here is as important as the work of another friend, who was gifted by God through a series of dreams, with an invention that makes dirty water safe to drink, works in even the most remote location, and lasts longer and costs only a fraction of what most water purification systems cost? How can we say that what we're doing is as important or more important than what he does, when he has literally saved hundreds of eternities and lives (mostly the lives of children and babies) who didn't have to face the threat of water-borne illness because of his faithful dedication?

If they're right, how can we possibly say to anyone that our work here is as important as the work of our friend, a single woman living in the middle east? One of only a handful of Americans still in her war-torn, dangerous nation? A woman who bought back three children whose mother had sold them for their organs (yes - you just read that correctly), and now struggles to keep them fed? Struggles to keep them educated? Struggles to keep them safe? Struggles to stay safe herself because she refuses to leave the country (no matter the danger) if it means leaving them behind?

If they're right, how can we possibly say to anyone that our work here is as important as the work of yet another friend who lives in Northern Iraq with his wife and six children, and helps refugees who have lost everything (often, including loved ones) in the ever-advancing onslaught of radical Islam? Whose very life is in danger each day because of his insistence on sharing more than just food or supplies, but in sharing the gospel of Jesus along with them? Who helps support, equip, train, and pray with military forces who have bravely volunteered to try to stop the advance of ISIS and take back cities which had been strongholds of Christianity for almost 2,000 years and have now been emptied of every living soul?

According to the books (well-intentioned though they were), our family must now consider itself somehow in competition with these other missionaries - our brothers and sisters in Christ - so that we can win the precious and limited prize of financial support that (let's face it...) we all need in order to complete our ministry. The message is that we have to sell ourselves well if we want to do our work well.

Here's the problem with that: 

We were already purchased by Jesus Christ, so we don't need to sell ourselves any more to anyone, and neither do our friends (Gal. 3:13).

It's not our job to convince people that they should believe in what we're doing and support our work. That's God's job. He's the one who sent us (Rom. 10:14-15). He's the one who owns the cattle on a thousand hills (Ps. 50:10). The whole Earth is His, and all that it contains (1 Cor. 10:26). When He (through his son Jesus) told the first missionaries to not even worry about taking an extra bag, or shirt, or pair of shoes because the worker is worth his keep (Mt. 10:10), I believe He meant it for now, just as much as He meant it then.

I guess since the Bible is always right (hallelujah!), and all those books are wrong, it's really not our job to convince other people that we're "real" missionaries. That means I don't have to try to convince myself of it anymore, either. Hmmm... amazing how that works. :)

I sincerely appreciate the intentions of the people who wrote those books about how to enter the mission field. But, dear friend, take some advice from a REAL missionary (yes, that's me!) - you will never have to compete with anyone for what the Lord wants to give you for His work (resources, love, approval, etc.), because in Him there is ALWAYS more than enough (2 Cor. 9:8).

First Impressions

So, in early April, I had the privilege of going back to the United States.  When I landed in the Atlanta airport I thought it would be fun to write down the first five things that were different to me after nine months in another country.

This list is for fun.  I love my country, and though I do see issues all of us could work on together to fix, that is not what this list is.  This list is just observations. On top of that, these are merely observations from the Atlanta airport (my favorite airport) and not necessarily the rest of my trip.

Noise:  This may be odd due to the fact that mufflers seem like mere suggestions down here in Guatemala, but things are done quieter here.  People talk a lot, but they speak quieter, not feeling the need to shout to get their point across.  People do not talk loudly on their phones.  They step quietly. Even in louder shoes, you may not hear them walk up on you.  It also considered rude to close doors loudly, and this attitude seems to permeate into other actions.  One things I noticed is that as Americans we speak loudly on our cell phones. I could not help overhearing a woman on her cell phone and almost thinking of going over to help her with the issue, since I knew everything about it after sitting near her for five minutes.

Skin:  I understand it was around eighty degrees in Atlanta when we landed, so it was warm.  There were a lot of shorts and tank tops on both men and women.  We live very high in the mountains, so people do not dress that way, because it is cooler.  Where we live it is also more formal, so women normally wear slacks or dresses and men at least wear dress shirts, if not slacks.  The only people I normally see in shorts in Xela are tourists or people exercising.  Not bad, just different.

Invisibility:  I stick out in Guatemala.  I am probably taller than 95 percent of the country, and I have a lot lighter skin tone.  Kids point at me in the markets. Homeless people come up asking for money, knowing as a foreigner I probably have some.  There is never a time when I do not know everybody knows I am different.  But, in the Atlanta airport, I was completely average.  I am the size of an average male in the U.S. I am an average weight.  In the states, I completely turned invisible. It was kind of nice, to be honest.

Food:  Specifically, the heaviness of food.  Butter, cheese, and meat are very expensive in Guatemala, so you cook with less of them because they are costly to use.  Restaurants use less of them for the same reason.  I got some chicken strips at Popeye's and couldn't even finish them because they were so heavy and greasy. It took me about four days to get used to the food again, and even then I could not eat more than one helping.

Trash Cans:  There are no trash cans in the toilet stalls in the men's restroom in the Atlanta airport.  In Guatemala you throw your toilet paper in the trash can, so you get used them being there.  I never did make this mistake in the States. But, before my mind caught up, I did find it weird that the airport didn't have trash cans.

These were the first five things I noticed.  They were many things after this, but I was amazed how I have gotten used to life in Guatemala, and how different it is from life in the U.S.