Last weekend was our church's big Missions Conference. It is my favorite event our church has because they bring all (or most) of the missionaries home for a time of regrouping, resting, and catching up with family, friends, and supporters. We had great speakers and smaller group sessions with missionaries, hearing stories from the field and being encouraged by them to know what "missions" really is.
Sunday evening was the final service for "Missions Sunday," the finale of the whole weekend. At the end of the service, one of our pastors did a "missionary role call" and announced every missionary we have, and those who were home came out onto the stage - including my Mom and Dad. It was almost solemn as each family came onto the stage, announced by name and country in which they serve. After each had been announced and found a place on the stage, they were celebrated with a standing ovation from the congregation. As we all stood, several missionaries sang the simple song "God Is So Good" in the language of the nation they serve in. Afterward, the congregation was invited to join in English while each missionary continued in their country's language. This is a song I know well in English and Romanian, but I only made it through one, maybe two lines. We all stood facing each other - foreign missionaries facing the home church, all singing together to the same God. It was beautiful.
But... I half expected to look upon that group of missionaries and feel like I was missing out. A year or two ago, I know I would have. This time I stood... facing them, but not separate from them. I was a different part of the same body. As each family stood with their "team" for the sake of the Gospel in different places, I realized I stood with mine. I stood with my husband, my little daughter, and my church - not as foreign missionaries, but as missionaries whom God has called to stay at home. (How do I know that? Because we're here!) The expectation I had to feel "left out" was replaced by an overwhelming sense of true contentment. This was something I had never experienced before, and my emotions couldn't handle it. I sobbed. People saw. And I was only a little embarrassed.
Maybe one day, God will move us to another place to serve. Right now, He has us in Denton, TX and I've never been so content in my life. Our job remains the same no matter where we are - to share the Gospel. My dad describes once when he was sitting in a Romanian home on a hard couch, talking about Jesus with a family. In his heart, he was hit with the truth of realizing he was exactly in God's will. I can only assume this is the same peace he had.
Now, it is a matter of learning exactly how we are to be faithful here, which will come with time, prayer, and obedience. I hope to take advantage of the training our church has to offer. I hope to use the time we've been given to learn and grow together as a married couple and a young family, and that we learn to see the challenges we face as opportunities for growth. We will be faithful to tend our sheep until Goliath comes and God brings us out to fight him. His timing is perfect and His plan is so much bigger than us.
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