When I was four months pregnant with my third child, a young, single, childless woman said to my face, “I heard you were pregnant again. What are you thinking? Don’t you want to do something with your life?”
She had clout — influence among the youth group — a group I was still very much a part of. And, she had audacity. At the time, my young-self was in the throes of debilitating fears and insecurities, but somehow I was mindful and brave enough to stand up.
I could have let her words become my disillusion. Instead I told her, “The calling of wife and mother is a high one. God has already told me about the baby in my belly. It’s a boy, and he’s going to have the heart of a giver, an even bigger heart than that of his father. His name is Jonathan.”
My boy is eleven, now. I have not met anyone more forgiving, giving, merciful, and tender-hearted as he. He’s in Guatemala this week with his dad. It’s not my boy’s first trip. Haiti was his first. They are with World Help on a medical missions trip.
They served 150 people in a Guatemalan village one day and 350 another. They are walking the same dusty hills that I did when I told God I wanted to give my life for this — to help save others. They gave out medication and assisted while doctors performed minor surgery. The Guatemalan people are so beautiful.
When my husband texted me this picture of Jonathan painting a girl’s finger nails, all I could do was smile. He has a little sister, and loves her well. I pictured him kneeling on the floor at home, painting her nails, willingly, lovingly, like he always does.
That’s my boy. Don’t I want to do something with my life? Absolutely. I am doing it.
My boy is in Guatemala this week on a medical missions trip, and I am praying for God to open His eyes to the world He loves… and this is what my dreams are made of.
Before my boy left he was worried, but not because of leaving his mama — though he makes sure I know he adores me. He was afraid he wouldn’t be able to handle the suffering he would see. He has heard my stories. He knows how impoverished the people of Guatemala are, and his heart breaks.
I told him more than once, “You will see suffering, and you will also see hope. You will see people who have given their lives to help save, heal, and feed, and I know you will be impassioned to do the same. You let God show you what He wants you to see. Let Him show you what you were made for.”
With wholehearted devotion, I want to be a family that is mission minded.
What it means to be mission minded.
It means you live to serve.
It means your life is not your own.
It means you know what you’ve been given.
It means you understand why you’ve been given it.
It means you know you have an assignment from God.
It means that you know you are called to affect eternity.
It means you take the great commission seriously — go and make disciples.
It means you know you are more than a consumer, but also a giver.
It means you shape your life- dreams in a way that would help save another.
It means when you see a need, you ask “What can I give to help meet it?”
It means you know being an ambassador for Christ is not cliche.
It means you know it is as if God is making His appeal through you.
It means you know it is so others might be reconciled to God.
It means you know you are left on earth after you’re saved, so others might be too.
It means you know God loves a world that is much bigger than yours.
It means you know you are called to love it, too.