Inheritance in a Shoebox

           I have a goal this summer: clean out the garage.  And nothing will stop me.  Not heat nor spiders nor dust.  Nothing.  But it is a discipline for me.  I like to reminisce.  So, when my daughter came out to the garage to see what progress I had made, she found me with a shoebox in my hand. 

            “What’s that, Mommy?”  “Oh, it’s nothing.  It’s just a box I kept from high school.”  “What’s in it?  Can I see?” 

            So I opened the lid of the box.  The box contained several notes and drawings, a newspaper article, a bead necklace, and an old corsage - that had taken my breath away once.   They are the little things that a fifteen year old girl had collected because she did not want to forget.  And now, the fifteen year old girl was showing her daughter the beginning of her own legacy.

            I met Chris at age fifteen and fell ~ hard.  I am happy to say that I have never recovered.  Even though the contents of the shoebox would never garner any kind of monetary wealth, I would never part with it.  It is the time capsule that tells the beginning of a love story. 

            So there I stood, pulling out bits of paper and trinkets, all from the year I had met my daughter’s future father.  I laughed and smiled and thought it strange that I should be telling Bella about the details of my friendship with her father, when I was only five years older than she is now.  She took it all in.  It was part of her own story too.

            One of the things I told my husband before we married was that it was far more romantic to be poor and in love than to be rich and in love.  He then informed me that I was about to get my wish.  But time has proved me wrong.  We are very much in love with one another, but we are obtaining more and more “wealth” by the day.  Our cups runneth over, but the contents cannot be weighed on scales.  The inheritance we are building is invisible. 

            The box and its contents were visible, but the relationship that it represented was unseen.  God was the One who sovereignly brought Chris and me together.  The box was a way to “see” the invisible hand of God.

            Recently, in our ladies Bible study, we were contemplating why God uses the visible to point to the invisible. A woman there had a good answer for this question.  She thought that it was because we are only human and finite and therefore God uses things we can see and relate to here on Earth in order to teach us something about Him.  When one views a mountain, one knows a little bit more about God’s splendor, majesty, and bigness.

            I have been contemplating the words “inheritance” and “possession”.  In my contemplations, I came across this verse from Ezekiel, “This shall be their inheritance: I am their inheritance: and you shall give them no possession in Israel; I am their possession.”(Ezekiel 44:28 ESV)

            Like the Levites, I can give my daughter no lasting possession here.  Her earthly inheritance adds up to nothing more than nostalgic photos and letters in a shoebox.  But, oh, what a trade!  Nothing lasting here.  Lacking no good and eternal thing There.  For, just as with the Levites, her inheritance shall be the Lord Jesus Himself.  When she opens up the shoeboxes of her past, she will hold letters and photographs that she can see, but my hope is that she will learn of the true realities that speak louder than the contents of any shoebox.    For here we have no lasting city, but we seek the city that is to come.(Hebrews 13:14)                      

                                                                        ~ Your Fellow Sojourner

On Jordan's Stormy Banks

1. On Jordan’s stormy banks I stand,
And cast a wishful eye
To Canaan’s fair and happy land,
Where my possessions lie.

2. All o’er those wide extended plains,
Shines one eternal day;
There God the Son forever reigns,
And scatters night away.

Chorus: I am bound (I am bound)
I am bound (I am bound)
I am bound for promised land,
I am bound (I am bound)
I am bound (I am bound)
I am bound for promised land.

3. No chilling winds nor poisonous breath
Can reach that healthful shore;
Sickness, sorrow, pain and death,
Are felt and feared no more.
(Repeat chorus)

4. When shall I reach that happy place,
And be forever blessed?
When shall I see my Father’s face,
And in His bosom rest?
(Repeat chorus)

Getting Married at Six

                Mothering happens in moments of time.  Often the intentional things that we do as mothers are just as important as the unexpected ones.  And yesterday I had a momentary discussion with my son as I was slicing tomatoes. 

                “Mom” “Yes son”  “S. whispered to me that she is going to marry me.  I can’t wait to marry her.” “I know you want to marry her, but the best thing for you to do right now is to pray for her.  Pray that she just loves Jesus and then she will love you too.”  “Yes, I am going to pray that she loves me.”  “No, you need to pray that she loves Jesus and you need to pray that you love Jesus too.  Then you will both love each other the way you should. You know, you can’t get married at 5; you have to become a man first.  That is a long time from now.  So, you have a lot of growing up to do.”    “I am not going to get married at 5, I am going to get married at 6.”  “So, you are going to get married when you are 6?”  “No, at 6.”  “Do you mean 6, as is 6 pm?”  “Yes, and Pop-pop will be there and Grammy will be there and you will be there.”  “Oh.”  “Well Mom, that is enough for now, we can talk about this some more in the morning.”  He runs off. 

                Yes, the cute factor was strong in this encounter, but the Spirit really caused me to sit up and pay attention while my son was sharing with me.  This is not the first conversation this child has had with me about marrying this little girl.  In fact, this has been going on for over a year now.  He truly does love this little girl.  He is very serious about marrying her.  As serious as a 5 year old can be.   Only God knows if this will come to be, but in the meantime, I do know what God would have him become before he takes a bride.

                Every child has a certain “bent”, a way in which he or she tends to grow.  I have come to see the “bents” of my children and ask the Lord how I can use their innate likes and dislikes, strengths and weaknesses, to point them in the direction of the King and His Kingdom.  And during this mothering moment, I had a greater insight into this child’s soul.

                His name means “a happy place” and “God dwelling with us”.   He has always been one to enjoy the company of others and is generaly a happy kid.  He likes to be at home and likes to work hard outside.   He has the most “shepherd-like” character of all of our children.  He loves to care for others and see them happy.  He is the “touchy-feely” kind of kid.  He was just made to love a wife and children.

                He has always wanted to marry and have children.  When he talks of the future he talks of leaving home, having his own home, and having many children.  He just knows what he wants – even at 5.  He has also told us that he wants to be a boxer and then a farmer.  J  Mmmm, don’t know if I can help with that one, but I will pray…

                So, my son, how do you need to grow in order to be a godly husband and father?  This is more important than any vocational training you will ever have.  Souls and eternity are at stake.  How can I help you and care for you as you grow toward this godly desire?  I have the future in mind for you as you speak to your siblings and as you employ self-control, as you learn to make your bed and as you learn to write you name.  You are a husband and father in training.  I am your mother-teacher.  I am praying that God would give me the wisdom of Solomon’s mother and may you see Jesus through me.  May I rise and call you blessed my son, as you grow into a man who knows the way of the righteous.  I love you. 

                                                                          ~Your Fellow Sojourner

              Blessed is the man

                                who walks not in the counsel of the wicked,

                nor stands in the way of sinners,

                                nor sits in the seat of scoffers;

                but his delight is in the law of the LORD,

                                and on his law he meditates day and night.

                He is like a tree

                                planted by streams of water

                that yields its fruit in its season,

                                and its leaf does not wither.

                In all that he does, he prospers.

                The wicked are not so,

                                but are like chaff that the wind drives away.

                Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment,

                                nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous;

                for the LORD knows the way of the righteous,

                                but the way of the wicked will perish.

                                         (Psalm 1 ESV)

When The Circus Leaves Town

                Chris and I have been working with our children on personal responsibility and accountability.  They have been responding well, especially when candy and money is involved.  We want them to see that with faithful hard work, there are rewards.  But what kind of rewards?  Is the candy and money giving them the right message? 

                God gave Adam and Eve work in the Garden of Eden, where everything was called good.  Work, like all other creation, has been twisted by the Enemy of our souls.   We often see it as bad or even worse, some kind of drudgery that God gave us to do.  When all of this work is done, then I can have time for what I want – rest – play – things that I really would rather spend time doing.

                We have a friend who is always working- he sees a job and does it.  Many of us think he takes his work a little too seriously.  He takes great pride in seeing a job well done, and it blesses his family and friends.  Someone asked him if there was ever a job that he does not want to do.  He said that yes, there were many tasks he does not want to do, but he just tells himself to do them anyway.  And as he works, he focuses on doing a good job and he does not dwell on how smelly or dirty or difficult the task may be.  This is the common grace of God in this man.  Why do you say?  Because man was made in the image of God and God gave man work as a blessing, not a curse.  Therefore, God graces man to work and to derive pleasure in his work. 

                So, what has Satan done?  St. Benedict of medieval fame recognized this problem.  He could have chosen a life of ease, but he saw no pleasure in it.  He told his fellow man that the lowliest of tasks done to the glory of God blesses both man and God.  The monk’s fellow brothers depended on him for their food and the surrounding people depended on him for hard to find medicine and the life giving Word of God.   Benedict spoke harshly to his fellow learned monks and priests who chose to elevate themselves above work because of their “priestly” calling. 

                Now, the life that devotes itself to hard work and sacrifice to God is a full life, a busy life, and an ever-expanding life.  The life that embraces both work and devotion is hard to find.  This life does not have the goal of entertainment and rest in mind. True rest comes through Christ alone.  Work must be done while it is still day, for when the night comes, the plow must stop, the sheep go into their pen, and the plowman sleeps.  Work comes to a stop.  Oh the hours upon hours spent thinking and striving toward ease.  I often ask myself, what would my Grandmother, who lived a short life, think?  Would she push through, would she put that thought aside, would she let go of the temporal to hold on to the eternal? 

                We are not given the length of our days.  Some of us will have many, others of us few.  But all of us have a God-given work to do.  Remember what we were told to pray?  Lord, send out laborers.  But, that was about the spreading of gospel seed, not changing diapers – right?  All that I do, all that I do, to the glory of God. 

The pastor preaches to his children when he takes the trash out and the missionary evangelizes when she hangs out the laundry.  How?  It is all in one - all to the praise of His glorious grace!  We are to speak as we walk by the way, as we sit, and as we lay down.  We are to always be pointing to Jesus.  Jesus, Jesus, Jesus – a constant refrain.

                And so, we are discovering the gospel in the reformation of work in our home.  We see how to work with those that are hard to work with, we clean up after those who do nothing but make messes, and we stay with a task until the work is done.  It is transformation of body, mind, and soul.  We have spent more time together, resulting in more opportunities to address sin, to ask forgiveness, and to point to Jesus. 

                Chris and I took the children to the movies yesterday to celebrate a job well done at home.  We all arrived with smiles and great anticipation.  We were met with long lines and confusion - and so the grumbling began.  When the movie was over and the popcorn was eaten, the cries of more, more came.  The temporal reward was not rooted in the eternal.  It did not satisfy.  Only when sleep came did we begin to recover peace in our home. 

                Chris and I talked over why such ungratefulness.  After contemplating this question, I believe that we have not been enjoying the work for work’s sake.  Do we rejoice in whatever task we have before us or do we see the work as a hurdle to get over to get to what we believe will really give us joy. 

Now, I do believe that God has given us all things to enjoy in Him.  Jesus liked a good party and a good conversation and he rested too.  But He also did not look to the things this world has exalted to satisfy His soul.  If we can praise God for the movie, for the popcorn, for time to enjoy a rest from our labor ~ if we can enjoy the circus and wave good-bye as the circus train leaves town and then return to joyfully serving the Maker of Heaven and Earth, than good!  If we moan and cry and long to stay in our seats eating popcorn and peanuts - if our eyes long to keep the dancing elephants and trapeze artists in view - then we need to speak the truth of God to our hearts.  The Giver of the gift is what we praise, not the gift. 

                And so, today, I am listening to our hearts. What are we really saying in our home today?  Who is receiving the praise, and what is being glorified?  Am I rejoicing in the opportunity to wash and sweep and tidy because it is what God has given me to do?  God gives me good to do, not bad - and we know that He is always shaping, always working.  I am thankful He has not yet completed His work in me.  Oh, so thankful.                       ~ Your Fellow Sojourner

The Girl Who Waited For An Orange

     Chris and I love meeting new people.  Every person has a story to tell and a perspective of life that is all their own.  As a friend of Chris’s likes to say, “never give up an opportunity to meet a person for the first time.”  This was a meeting that comes back to my mind from time to time.

     I cannot even remember her name, but I will always remember her story.  She showed up one summer evening at our Coffee House home group.  She was an au pair for the summer and was thrilled to hear of a college age group that met not too far from her summer residence.  She was German and had big curly brown hair and was always joyful.  She attended our group faithfully over the summer and that is how we heard her story. 

     When the Berlin Wall came down in 1989, she and her brothers and sisters had known nothing but life behind the iron curtain in Eastern Germany.  Luxuries were rare and freedom of religion even rarer.  Her father pastored an underground church in Eastern Germany and they had very little.  On the night that the great Wall of separation dividing East from West came down, her father took her and her siblings to cross over to the Western side.  She would have been about 15 or 16 on this historic night.  One of the places he took them to was a mall.   As she walked the mall she was overcome with the overabundance of everything.   Then her father found something she had never seen or touched or smelled before – an orange.  And so, on that night in Germany, she tasted her first orange.  She talked of the freedom that people had to just walk across the East-West border all night.  It was a night of celebration. 

     Years later, she came to America having heard of our freedom and she pictured what the church in America must be like.  But there were two things she could not understand.  Why, she asked, do the people of every color and language and class not come together on a Sunday to worship together?  Why are the churches so segregated?  Secondly, she wondered why we were not filled with more joy.  Why, in a country with so much freedom, are we not more joyful in our worship? 

     It was a sad thing for me to wonder about these questions along with her.  I could not give her the answers and I prayed she had not been disillusioned by her visit.  We shared a summer of worship, prayer, and laughter.

     This girl had waited and endured and escaped many things.  For fifteen years she waited.  She waited for the gift of one orange.  The waiting made it sweeter, and unforgettable.

     What do I endure every day?  What do I wait for and wait for and wait for?  As I fight to hold on to the truth, how many times do I contemplate risking my life, attempting to scale the wall that separates me from what I long for? 

He has said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” So we can confidently say,

“The Lord is my helper;

I will not fear;

what can man do to me?”

(Hebrews 13:5-6 ESV)

     My Savior never left my friend when she lived in a world of nothing but varying shades of grey.  He knew the longings of her heart.  He broke down the dividing wall and walked with her to the other side.

     I am longing for the day when I will cross over and My Heavenly Father will take me to see and touch and taste things I have never heard spoken of before.  And it will be so sweet.  The shades of grey will be no more and joy will be my constant companion.  I know that I will see the girl who waited for an orange amidst the worshipping throng of Heaven, and our faith will be our eyes.                                                                                     

                                                                                               ~ Your Fellow Sojourner


                                   

The Disciples At My Knees

           I am a woman that has chosen to make the home her hub.  The primary result of this choice is that I do not have holidays.  Mommas, can I get an amen?  I have looked for the elusive day off for years.  I have finally surrendered to reality – it will never be.

            Now, when a woman finally comes to this point in her life, she has two choices.  One ~ the cut and run response.  I will make this happen somehow – how can I make these children go away, even for just a little while?  But we all know that the desired effect never comes.  The guilt and resentment sets in, only making it worse.  Two~ accept the good and the hard things that come from mothering children and meet the challenge.  Self-preservation has become the nemesis of this generation’s mothers.  Letting go of me allows the mother to hold onto the hearts of her children. 

            Years ago,   I realized that if I was going to give my life to my family, and try to hold on to my own, there would be a forever war within my soul.  Do I raise the typical American child and then try to reclaim what is left of my life? Or, do I give up my expectations for having things my way and give myself to my family - hook, line, and sinker?  It wasn’t until death and loss became very real to me that I chose the latter.  Death is unnatural.  We know this because whenever someone we love dies, we do not want to let go.  We were not meant to die.  It was sin that brought death to us. 

            Life is the most precious of gifts.  We cannot manufacture it on our own.  The body and soul of a person is miraculous.  Every being has worth because of the miracle that they are.  The worth of a child is bound up in the image that they bear.  They are image-bearers of God, made in His image alone.  Not in mine.  Not in theirs.  Everything they have comes down from the Father of Lights. 

            Being a mother was always a given for me.  I never doubted that I would marry and raise children.  I just had no idea what I was dreaming of.  God did.  He puts those dreams there.  The problem arose when I added and took away from His dreams for me, making them a pale shadow of what His true intent was.  I wanted to take the Author’s pen out of His hand and write my own story.  Like Eve.

            Eve.  The life-giver and our first mother.  There was a precedent set with her.  She was tempted to believe that God was withholding something from her.  Something that would make her life more fulfilling and more meaningful- a knowledge of which she knew not.  When she possessed this knowledge, she believed she would come into more of who she truly was.  We know how the story ends…

            I like to say that something has to give.  This is true.  You will have to let go of something, often many things, over and over again in this life.  The question is, are we giving up what we ought to give?

            Discipling as Jesus discipled is an example of a life given for the lives of others.  Being born, being cared for when you are too young to care for yourself, being watched over as you learn to walk and tie your shoes and read is very time intensive.  There is no time clock mothers punch when they have put their 8 hours in.  Instead, there is a Father in Heaven who pours out life giving water into our souls as we pour out our lives.  There is no substitute for the one who has been called to disciple, only the discipler can fulfill what the Creator intends.  He has created both the young one and the old one – and both need one another.

            I have only learned what I need to do to teach and train my children as their needs become known and their sin shows.  In Scripture it tells us of a call that is sure and irrevocable.  Mothers and fathers, our call is sure and irrevocable.  Our children are ours to tend. 

             What happens when you leave your garden to another or you leave your garden alone all together?  Well, come look at my garden beds around our house.  It is not pretty.  Why?  Because they are not a priority for me.  It shows.  Weeds and sickly looking plants abound.  The garden could be so much more.  But, I know it would take daily maintenance.  Without it, it goes its own way and more aggressive plants that do not belong choke out the young plants that need care and room to grow.  This mirrors my daily temptation.  I do not want to tend and water and care for my children because it costs me something – something my flesh holds dear.  I want my time, my peace, and my space.  They intrude on all of those areas.  I need to die daily.  To let Christ’s death have its work in and through me every day.  And so, I have a need to be tended, watered, and cared for.  There is no better place to go for nurture and care than the Word of God, Truth.

Psalm 119:40

Behold, I long for your precepts;

in your righteousness give me life!

Proverbs 8:35

For whoever finds me finds life

and obtains favor from the Lord,

Proverbs 22:4

The reward for humility and fear of the Lord

is riches and honor and life.1

Matthew 6:25

“Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?

Matthew 7:14

For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few.

Matthew 10:39

Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.

John 10:11

I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.

John 10:15

just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for the sheep.

Galatians 6:8

For the one who sows to his own flesh will from the flesh reap corruption, but the one who sows to the Spirit will from the Spirit reap eternal life.

Philippians 2:16

holding fast to the word of life, so that in the day of Christ I may be proud that I did not run in vain or labor in vain.

Colossians 3:3

For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.

Hebrews 13:5

Keep your life free from love of money, and be content with what you have, for he has said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.”

James 4:14

yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.

Revelation 2:10

Do not fear what you are about to suffer. Behold, the devil is about to throw some of you into prison, that you may be tested, and for ten days you will have tribulation. Be faithful unto death, and I will give you the crown of life.

Revelation 7:9-10

After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands,and crying out with a loud voice, “Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!”

And so, as I have done so many times in my life, I let go.  I let go of what I know was not from God and ask Him to teach me.  Teach me to love what You love Lord.  You love children – I know this, for I am Your child.  As I am in need, so are my own children.  And just as You spoke to Peter, I too must feed these lambs if I say that I love You.  And that I cannot do without being fed myself.  I forget.  I forget what You have said to me and I turn to the words that seem to hold real life out to me.  I listen to the hiss.  I fall.  I see that You are right and when I stray, Your grace and mercy bring me back to the right way of thinking. Come Lord Jesus.

Mothers, I want to risk something and speak to you.  There is nothing worth doing that does not cost you something. The list of what we give up and die to is endless.  But, I am reminded of the One who called me to this.  There is a sweet promise at the end of this life of giving.  He came to give Himself and die, so must we.  And so, I have a choice every day to accept this calling or to go my own way.  And even though I have the same blood of my mother Eve, I have a mind that is being renewed by the words of Life.  And like the disciples, I can either welcome these disciples at my knees, or send them away. 

                                                                               ~Your Fellow Sojourner

What Are You Fighting For?

            I heard the commotion and I knew it wouldn’t be pretty.   By the time I got to the boys’ bedroom, Liam was chasing after Winston with a battle cry.   No matter what I said or even when I pulled them apart, Liam still went after Winston.  I had a foreboding feeling come over me. 

            I do not know what started the fight, but I do know that the passion and determination in my sons was not waning.  Finally, I separated them and they seemed to calm down.  But, the storm was still raging beneath the quiet facade.  Then next thing I hear is a “thwack” and a cry.  I knew without even looking, Liam had punched his brother.  He had taken the matter into his own hands.  Liam was then “removed from the situation” for corrective purposes.  Winston was taken to receive medical attention for his wounds.

            By the time Liam returned from his just punishment, he was “singing a different tune”.  He sat across from Winston, who was holding a cold washcloth to his bloody nose, and took him by the shoulders, earnestly imploring him to be his friend.  I did not understand all of their conversation, but I did catch the spirit behind it.  “Let’s not make mountains out of molehills.  We are on the same side, you and me.  So what do you say?  I’ll forgive you and you forgive me and we won’t ‘wrestle for real’ anymore.”  

            It was a precious scene.  Two brothers who often get into disagreements, becoming fast friends.  I knew their passionate nature toward one another came from their closeness.  When given the chance, they would fight for a resolution instead of reason toward one.

            So, I asked myself, how am I like my boys?  Do I react like they do when I am wronged?  Do I give in to my passions?  Do I go after what I want with dogged determination, with no care for whom I hurt in the process?  Do I run hard after things that I want without a pause, or a thought?  Do I let things go, only to take them up again when my emotions get the better of me?  I began to see myself in them all too much.

            Do I fight for things that I do not need or even should not have?  Do I think that obtaining what I want in people or in my circumstances will make my life more livable?  Do I want control of my life that badly?  How do I really treat a sister or a brother?

            Questions of the heart.  I am asking myself these questions.  A testing of the soul.  How do I respond when Christ takes me by the collar and sits me down and disciplines me in His love?  Do I see it as love or an inconvenience?  “Sorry you caught me sinning, Lord.”  Or am I thankful that He cares enough to come after me and take me away from what would only cause me more pain?  Sin is pleasurable for a time, but it will always lead to death.  He will not allow me to go the way of death.  He cannot, for he has altered my future.  He has taken away the final death and given me life.  And life more abundantly.

            So, the boys walked off together, after the nose had stopped bleeding, and played peacefully.  The fight was forgotten.  The passion subdued.  Love had conquered their desires.  They no longer knew what they had been fighting for. 

            That is what I want.  To no longer have the desire to fight anymore.  To calmly walk toward what God has for me, in peace.  To be changed by the reminder of who I am now.  To know that I am fighting the God of Job when I protest the circumstances in my life.  Thank God He catches me and calms me, puts His arms around me and tells me, “Let’s not fight anymore.  Let’s do things My way.”  For like Paul, I too, kick against the goads.  And that my friends, will never get you anywhere.

                                                                                             ~ Your Fellow Sojourner

  Acts 26:12-18 NIV

¹² “On one of these journeys I was going to Damascus with the authority and commission of the chief priests. ¹³ About noon, King Agrippa, as I was on the road, I saw a light from heaven, brighter than the sun, blazing around me and my companions. ¹⁴ We all fell to the ground, and I heard a voice saying to me in Aramaic, ‘Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me? It is hard for you to kick against the goads.’

¹⁵ “Then I asked, ‘Who are you, Lord?’

“ ‘I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting,’ the Lord replied. ¹⁶ ‘Now get up and stand on your feet. I have appeared to you to appoint you as a servant and as a witness of what you have seen and will see of me. ¹⁷ I will rescue you from your own people and from the Gentiles. I am sending you to them¹⁸ to open their eyes and turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan to God, so that they may receive forgiveness of sins and a place among those who are sanctified by faith in me.’

In An Instant

           I recently attended a convention where there were many book sellers and Christian organizations represented.  I was already familiar with many of the groups, publishers and names.  But I was unprepared for the physical reaction that came over me when I encountered books or ministries that were linked to missions. 

            As I walked by tables representing missions organizations, my mind would go to certain passages about men and women who put themselves in harm’s way, all to speak the truth of the gospel.   I could not focus on anything else.   I walked by one table and picked up a biography of a persecuted pastor and the hair on my arms stood on end.  My heart raced and my mind came alive.  Why?  I have not walked in these people’s shoes.  But to me, hearing of missionaries and the plight of the persecuted church has always been like reading a spine tingling mystery novel.

            From my first recollection, the stories I loved the most were of missionaries.  They were heroes of the grandest nature.  I lay awake at night thinking about Amy Carmichael in India and Hudson Taylor in China.  I thought about wanting to have blue eyes but being denied them so that I could disguise myself as an Indian.  I thought Hudson Taylor’s long braid was fantastic!  I dreamt of deep dark jungles and carrying black leather Bibles to lost people.  I wanted to hear every missionary that came to our church, and if they came to our home for a meal or a visit, it was like meeting royalty. 

            I no longer romanticize mission work as I once did, but the love of sharing the gospel with those who would not otherwise know it, has always been alive in me.  It has shaped major decisions in my life. One such decision was taking a room opening on the missions/international floor of my freshman dorm in college.  I met and still know many brave women who escaped persecution, who would return to it again, or who lived among foreign people to give them the hope of the gospel. 

            Do you know what jewel was secretly being formed in my spirit as a result of this love of missions?  I have been able to hold onto this world with a lighter grip.

            Fashions and possessions do not charm me very much.  I do not have a preference for a certain race of people.  The more foreign, the better!  Giving to help the needy is a privilege.  Opening my home to all kinds of people is a blessing. Smelling like the poor makes me think of how Jesus must have smelled.

            This weekend conference made me pause and look back to see the pattern that God has woven in my life.  I want to say that I am still full of self and pride and the love of this life far too much.  But, I can see the blessings that have come from turning my gaze away from myself.

            So, out of all the books or things that I returned home with from the conference, there are two that stand out.  One, a vintage copy of missionary Helen Roseveare’s  Give Me This Mountain, and a hand embroidered bread basket liner made by a widow in Bangladesh.  I hope to meet both women one day and know all of their story. 

            I like to call these stories, “true stories”.  For, they are a part of what truly matters for all eternity.  That is why, as I stood by the table of missionary and pastor biographies, I trembled inside.  I was standing on holy ground.  In fact, if I would not have caused a scene, I would have knelt on the ground right there and prayed.  For amid all of the American affluence, there was such incredible sacrifice written on those pages.  The stories whispered to me as I stood there.  I needed to share this with the next generation.

            My children sat in our kitchen this past week in wide eyed wonder and with solemn faces as they listened to the story of Corrie Ten Boom.  They cannot get enough of her book, which has double significance for our family.  (My husband’s grandfather escaped the Holocaust of World War II.)  I think they are on their third listening in the past four days.  And tonight, I reminded them that they will sit and talk with Corrie and Peter Ten Boom one day.  We all became quiet, for our minds went to Eternity, in an instant.  That is what these stories do for me ~ they take me to Eternity.   ~Your Fellow Sojourner

"If Christ be God and died for me, then no sacrifice can be too great for me to make for him." ~ Helen Roseveare