When You Just Don’t Want to Do It
I don't want to go to Africa.
Not that Africa isn't great. I can imagine a safari and lots of exciting wildlife. A beautiful land. Beautiful people. But that's not my reality. I know Africa as a location on the map. The backdrop of a book. The place everyone fears God will send them if they go into full time missions. It's not the area a homebody from Tennessee travels to.
Africa is a long way from my little slice of this earth--even by plane. Have I mentioned lately that I abhor planes? Motion sickness is my modus operandi. Go ahead and pass me fifty barf bags. I won't waste a single one. I just don't ride well five miles up.
And speaking of not being on the ground, I prefer my feet on terra firma. There's just something nuts about hurtling through the atmosphere in a heavy, but ultimately flimsy metal contraption. Birds have brought those suckers down. Wind. Human error. Mechanical problems. Every time I get on one of them I have to ask myself how I could be so stupid.
And then there is the mission. "You ladies should go with me and host a women's conference," he casually says. "It would mean so much to them." One of our pastors goes regularly to train leaders. According to him their wives could use some encouragement too. Really?
I'm pretty sure I don't have much to offer these women. I'm pretty sure their faith stands considerably stronger than mine. They live in situations I can't fathom. My soft, Americanized, convenient Christianity wavers in the face of their vibrant, vigorous belief.
But we serve the same Jesus. He loves Africa and her people. He is able to bless and encourage these women even through a simple, unsteady vessel like me.
It will be one more opportunity to exercise trust, to embrace obedience, and to encounter His faithfulness and grace.
Photo by Larimar Lens
I'll pray and wrestle and rationalize.
But I have a feeling I know how this is going to play out.
Photo by Larimar Lens
I don't want to go. I'm unqualified, fearful, and frail. However, IF Jesus asks me, He has a good reason. And a good plan. It will be one more opportunity to exercise trust, to embrace obedience, and to encounter His faithfulness and grace.
I'll listen to what our pastor has in mind. I'll pray and wrestle and rationalize. I'll come up with several creative and even brilliant excuses. But I have a feeling I know how this is going to play out.
So, go ahead and pass me a barf bag.
