The Very Worst Missionary

Tonight we had our Multicultural family night at work. Part of that included Target's food distribution where Target pairs up with CEAP to provide bags of groceries for the families in our school. Target's team of volunteers has included none other than the best friend for the past two years so tonight was no different. Except that all the women in my family were busy and I was the only one with a short break between commitments to grab Izze. So Izze became a little Target volunteer tonight. It blessed my heart to see her following her Auntie around, helping to bag groceries and interact with kiddos. (In khaki and red to boot!)

Yanno, a few months from now I look forward with eager anticipation of updating this blog. Some small victory one of my small group girls is walking in, a healing that has taken place, a last ditch effort for finances that has come in, an out pouring of joy. I look forward to the victories I know will take place. But tonight, tonight I had to take inventory of my failures. Tonight, I had to once again define what this journey means and is going to mean for me. 

For me this decision has not been an easy one. This decision for me was not whether or not to take a trip but to change life paths. I don't plan on coming back to the life I lead today. Whatever, wherever or whoever I will be at the end of this first assignment, this is a change that I am making for life and with my life. I have to understand that, perhaps I need to communicate that. 

Secondly for me a missionary identity has never been one of perfection. I hope that when people I love and care about hear that I am going to be a missionary they do not assume that I believe I am perfect and that reaching a mountain top of spiritual, physical and emotional perfection has been reached and that is why I can be sent out to minister in the nations. I do not see or assume missionaries are any better or more holy than anyone else. I do not believe they are anymore talented, gifted or blessed. That's not the case....by any stretch of the imagination. 

I am a failure. I am a broken, bruised, sinful human being. I deserve death and my sins, choices, patterns and behaviors are worthy of a life separated from perfection. And that is where I would stay if I was without Christ. I know this. And while (as the person who knows me best pointed out) I wear a tough-you-can't-touch-me attitude I know that I am not perfect and I am deeply effected by my actions or inaction and interactions. I know that I am a screw up. I know that I have made decisions that are not right, not wise, not a good or proper witness of Christ. I know that I have been lazy and taken the easy way out, I know that I have spoken when I should have stayed quiet, and stayed quiet when I should have spoken. I am not oblivious to my humanity. I have struggled for years of my life to see myself as anything BUT my past mistakes and it seems as thou now, years later I have slid to the opposite side of the spectrum or at least what I portray is that I believe I don't make any. I make mistakes, I know that. I'm just as messed up as the next person. 

But I've come to know that does not discredit me from taking a place in the wonderful story Jesus is writing through history. It didn't discount Paul, or Peter, or the woman at the well or Rehab or Jonah or Thomas or Jacob, or David or Joseph. Terrorists, tax collectors, prosititues, womanizers, liars, cheaters, thieves, corporate scum. They in all their humanity, in all the messed up, ragamuffin, messy spirituality were recorded as scripture as examples of the little people in this world God chooses to use to change history. These men and woman changed Scripture and history in the midst of who they were. And while this is no way means I think I can live however I want and wave my Jesus flag. There is a right and a wrong. I'm well aware that outside of heaven I cannot conquer my flesh. I can try my best and attempt to live surrendered and put myself on the alter, but I know that outside eternity I'm never going to be perfect. I've spent way too many years of my life trying to be and waiting to be before I move. I'm never going to get there and if I wait too long my waiting becomes my disobedience. 

Matthew 28 commands us to "go into all the nations and teach them to be disciples." Matthew 28 doesn't say "wait until you have your stuff figured out, your Masters and mortgage, your ducks in a row and everyone's approval and then head out when it's convenient to your vacation schedule." I've been personally convicted that is says; go, send or disobey. And God has opened a door for me to go. So I'm going. I may be the very worst missionary, but I'm going. 

If you are reading this and my journey has personally offended you or made you uncomfortable I am sorry.  I do desire to be a person of humility, I desire to be a person that makes my sisters and my nieces proud, I desire to be a person who honors God. I am human, I make mistakes and many of them have involved people (as most mistakes go). I wear the mask that says I don't care and can't be touched and I do and I can. I do not desire to fall into the same traps of being so bound by my past mistakes that I can't move forward and so if in that self protective hedge I have made myself into someone who seems as though they don't care how their actions effects others I'm sorry. I have made mistakes yes, but I refuse to stay chained to them and I refuse to let them drive my decisions. 

I may be the very worst missionary but God has opened a door into New Zealand and of that I am convinced. I'm nothing special, just another vessel. While my journey is very special and unique to me there are thousands all over the world getting ready to do the same thing. There are girls right now from somewhere in the world that God is preparing to be my small group girls in New Zealand and I pray that they are not being prepared to meet me or interact with me or have a relationship with me, I pray that I'm simply a vessel. A body and a mouth and hands and feet that can be Jesus to them. A wine skin or a clay pot or a puppet, whatever it is I need to be for God to use me to reach them, I'm willing. God has not done some magnificent magic trick that has turned me into a Super Saint or Power Preacher, I'm just a silly, procrastinating, sassy, emotional, fire cracker girl from Minnesota. That's what I love about YWAM. While God could very well call me to preach or teach or do something public for his name first and foremost I'm just called to go there to love on these girls. My first responsibility is to pray for, with and over these girls. To love them. To walk with them on this crazy, missionary journey that God is growing them to be on. They are the Superstars in this show. This is God's major production in THEIR lives, I'm just a stagehand. I love that! I'm excited for that. I've had a really, really good example of that for years and I'm ready to put that into practice. I'm a mess-up, ya you bet. I know that. But I know I'm an awesome, loved, cherished daughter of God with one Judge. And He has opened a door for me. And when God has set to do something the gates of hell will not stand against it!