Confessions of a Missionary

I never felt called to be a missionary.

Sure, I knew that Christ-followers share the gospel with others.  I knew that the nature of a Christian is to be a missionary. But I always thought of missionaries as those "most-holy," "appointed-by-God" types that go to jungles and learn obscure languages, and forgo 21st century amenities.

I remember singing and clapping to "We are missionaries...going on a trip... to tell the world...all about Jesus!" in my preschool Sunday school class.

I remember my mom and other dear friends recounting stories about crazy ways God worked in the lives of African missionaries. I loved hearing the stories, but I didn't want anything to do with being a missionary. It was too hard. It was too radical.

As I grew older, however, I learned that sometimes instead of crossing oceans, being a missionary means rooting yourself deeply in the Word, in your community, and in the lives of those around you.  Sometimes being a missionary is standing firm for Christ even when everyone else runs away.  I learned that sometimes instead of learning remote languages, being a missionary means saying hard things and speaking up when everyone else is silent. And sometimes standing firm for Christ in a place where everyone knows you is the hardest task.

But regardless of location and language, being a missionary always means loving Jesus first, and letting that love overflow and spill into the lives of others, pointing them back to Him.

Confession: I continually fail at being a missionary.

I continually fail at loving Jesus.

I continually fail at loving people.

And I continually fail at pointing them back to Him.

In this transition from "regular teacher person in Indiana" to "Missionary Teacher in Hungary" I have often felt an added pressure to be holier. To be godlier. I believe the lie that only super godly people quit their jobs, live on support, and cross oceans to tell people about Jesus... And because my same old battles with pride and selfishness are still raging, there must be something wrong with me. I feel like a fraud and a faker. An impostor about to be found out.

They're going to find out how selfish I am!
They're going to hear my negative attitude!
They're going to see how pride continually gets the best of me!

And you probably will.

Because my gracious God chooses the weak and the sinners to carry out His purposes. He doesn't need me to do His work, but He chooses to bless me by giving me a part in His grand Story.

But I rejoice in this: His grace is sufficient for me and His power is made perfect in weakness. My weakness only glorifies Him more!