On a mission!

This morning, as I balanced a crate of books on my hip, I hunted the keys to open the door to my mission field.

Oh, I can almost hear that audible gasp, and see the question marks in your eyes. Mission field?? You ask. I thought you taught at that Mennonite school. All the children come from strong, Christian homes. You consider that a mission field?

Yes, though it's been a growing process, I can now say I most certainly do.

Ever since I can remember, which is when I was about four or so, I remember bed time conversations with my mom as she tucked me in for the night. "When I grow up, I want to be a missionary. I want to help lots of people and tell them about Jesus." And,in my juvenile mind, I would picture strange, unreal places, barbaric people, and myself as a Gladys Aylward or Florence Nightingale in the midst of it, brandishing a Bible and winning souls for Jesus.

The vision never dimmed, though my perception of the details certainly changed as I got older. In high school, I considered mission work to be very high on my list of future endeavours. My question was "where" and "when", not "will it be me?"

God led me to experience foreign culture in a two month stay in Peru. I returned with a zeal burning brighter than ever before for reaching out to the lost.

Then, His plan was for me to try something I thought I would never do--work at a nursing home. I learned I could enjoy my job. I loved it when I could make a pained, wrinkled face light up for even a few moments when I took a little extra time to listen or give affection. But, I wondered, when will I be called to the mission field?

Friends were called. To Thailand, Grenada, Kenya, Mongolia, Nicaragua. Poland. Guatemala. Puerto Rico. Then I got asked to teach school.

Yes, that was another one of my girlish dreams, to teach. But, surely, God wanted me somewhere else, far, far away to serve Him. Maybe this was just supposed to be for the in-between-now-and-then time. I said I would.

Yes, I would be moving two hours away from home, but not to any superstitious tribe of warring natives. I would be going to serve a church much like my own. God, aren't you expecting more?

One year, turned into two, three...this is now my fifth year teaching. And every year, God shows me more about my mission, or His mission that He's using me to fulfill.

I help a child learn to read clearly and distinctly, to read with feeling, to observe punctuation marks. He may be the minister of a church 20 years from now, calling upon his reading skills to share truth with the world. Perhaps I will sit in audience, not remembered for having been his teacher nor really caring, but being blessed by the way God has led and used a life I cared so deeply about.

My back aches as I bend over another one's desk. The math problem just doesn't work out, no matter how he tries it. No, he won't remember the problem in even 3 days from now, most likely, but maybe a lesson in perseverance was learned. And who knows, but he might be the foreman of a crew that works to rebuild homes for the world's less fortunate or those ravaged by natural disasters. His math skills may come in handy some day.

One little girl watches me so carefully. I just have this feeling. One day, she may be a teacher. Will she, like me, think back over her days of school and glean every positive character trait, helpful example, and ways of doing things from her former teachers. Maybe this day is one she will remember the rest of her life the way I remember my grade four teacher telling us how to remember how to spell "beautiful". B-E-A-utiful!

And the one who simply does not seem to enjoy academics very much at all but has a huge heart for anything lonely or hurting. Will she have been given tools to reach out to those around her and show them a picture of what Jesus is like?

I could go on, but it wonders me how, little and childish though they are, these young people will grow up one day to be what they are becoming now.


I embrace my mission field. God is good. All the time!

Are you living your mission?

Pray for the Children

This morning, in devotions, childish voices lifted in prayer--
Prayer for the children of the world.
Those whose stomachs ache from lack of food
Those whose hearts cry and bleed
Those who don't know what true love is
Whose parents are in disrupted marriages
Those who don't know Jesus, the One who loves them most.

Touching, to say the least, to hear the earnestness in their voices.

The world's children are growing up in a most dangerous time. The confusion society is throwing at them is far beyond what most can process. Why wouldn't a little child question their identity when the media is screaming their rights to any orientation they feel they identify with? Children are dressed as ghouls and goblins and sent out to practice a tradition rooted in Satanism. Children are unwittingly forced into molds of thinking and behaviour that strip them of who they were designed to be and make them to be what they are not.

I could have cried as I told my students they are not normal children. What's normal for most children is not what they experience. They have love, stable homes, two parents that love each other and them, guardians of their souls as well as their bodies, a Bible believing church to go to, a Christian school, food to eat, clothes to wear, friends who love Jesus...

It's amazing how much children comprehend.

And I, along with many of you, have been appointed to guide these precious souls. What a responsibility! What a joy!

STAND STILL...
"You can't be anxious and worship at the same time."

"Worship is having God as the core of our life. True worship entails all parts of our life."

My vision got sharpened today.  I don't know when I've heard a message devoted totally to the topic of Patience, especially when tied so closely in with our worship of God.  By the way, patience is a part of the Spirit fruit every Christian should produce. Tom Todd took it apart for us and knocked it off its pedestal of "that's great , but I just can't do it" and put it into mandatory terms-- stiff shoe leather to be walked in and broken out in the variables of daily life.

"Our culture sees impatience as a virtue." Hmm... yeah, maybe so. Speed is everything. I just purchased several books online that I hope to have arrive ASAP. Productivity and value are close friends in our North American culture. When is the last time I reveled in waiting? That the ticking clock didn't govern my actions like an army sentinel?

Being laid back to a fault is often viewed as a weakness, a defect. But who else identifies with the difficulty of being in possession of flawless patience? Isn't that the character quality that marks a seasoned champion? Our friends of Latin American countries may have a number up on us in this area. Well, maybe we shouldn't take siestas while the sun shines, but then again, maybe we should.

I like to think of myself as a patient person. I don't panic at every sudden malady, throw tantrums, or plan out my agenda two years in advance. But God revealed to me this morning how much I need to grow in this area.

Tom challenged us with the verse from Jeremiah. "STAND STILL....and see the salvation of the Lord."
But we want to have our finger in it too, so often. If we stand still, we can't get any of the credit. And we love to spout cliches about God only being able help those who help themselves, and He can't steer a parked car, etc. Well, maybe there is some merit to those ideas, but if patience was as deep seated in our lives as the lack thereof is at times, I wonder how we might be changed.

I wonder, if God's peace in our life metamorphosed into practical patience, would we be more pliable, easier to use, surrendered tools for whatever purpose He might have planned us for?

You've blessed me...

How many people, really, have impacted, influenced, directed or guided my life in some form or another?

I can think of many--

...the cousin who taught me how to respond calmly to a situation that seemed completely chaotic and out of control. I learned to value those things that were most important, such as the hearts of her little children that were stumbling around her feet and hindering her progress in a project that needed to be completed.

...the student who responds to any difficult situation with an initial furrowed brow, but then splits into this big ear to ear grin at the fact that the problem is just beyond him. I learned that the trial of the moment is trivial compared to the joy we can have knowing all of life is governed by a great God who understands our frustrations.

...the friend I watched struggle through hard times but transform into a lovely jewel through it all. I learned to give my trials to God and let Him use them for his glory.

...the brief conversation I had with a fellow FB student, where he resolutely extinguished a griping conversation about the difficulties of ministry by asking what we are doing about it. It was one of those things that stopped me in my self-righteous tracks and sent my mind reeling... I learned that no one person has the corner on anything. We all need each other and need to learn from each other.

...the co-teacher who willingly took precious moments out of his busy schedule to un-jam the laminator, arrange a special order to suit a learning need in my classroom, hang a paper towel dispenser etc. etc. I was reminded to be gracious with my moments and seek to use each to be a blessing to others.

...the school mom that treated the teachers with cookies at the end of a hectic week in which she attended her dear grandma's funeral. I was touched when I saw someone who deserved to be receiving cookies thinking of others and giving them instead.

...and if you're reading this right now, there is a good chance that you have left an indelible impression upon my life, a mark that time will not erase.

I've been blessed. All I can say in return is a humble "THANK-YOU". Never underestimate the influence and impact you have on the lives of others.

Little things...

        the two pieces of pink fabric meticulously stitched together to make a pocket "for my keys"

        the pretty red leaf

        the sparkly stone, and another, and another

        the shiny red apple, that is "really sour, but I like them that way" handed over by the tousled blonde one

        the note that appeared in my lunch bag when I was out of the classroom, to brighten my day

        the package of mini chocolate chip cookies that appeared on my desk, packed extra just for me

        the red silk rose hidden behind my laptop with the little girl stealing furtive glances my way to see when             I would first notice it.

        the handmade card from the young lady who left my classroom for the senior room this year

        and on and on and on...


Little things, big expressions.

God knows,
        how it's the small things from a child's heart that leave big messages.

Can I have that same extravagance of heart with the simple things of life? More lessons learned from my young teachers...