The Missionary Life

In reading someone’s blog I came again to the question, “What is a normal missionary?” Is it someone who flies planes in and out of the jungle? Or is it the family living in the hut in the river? Do you have to live in a country that’s gross national product is less than dinner-and-a-movie in the United States?

What did I do today as a missionary? I taught seven year olds how tadpoles become frogs. I studied for a lesson on Benedict and his monks. I explained the phrase “don’t be too sure” to a class of English students. I checked my bank account on line. I cleaned out my fridge. It was an absolutely-non-dramatic-to-do-list-kind of day.

When I was 19 I spent the summer in Australia. Before I went, I asked my mom (even though I had read book after book) what missionaries actually did. She said, “April, they live. That’s their job.”

So, we live. We try to do our best. We try to be patient and kind to the beggars. We try to manage our time wisely. We try to love our neighbors and set a good example. We try to give only God the credit when someone is baptized. We try not to be discouraged when someone disappoints us. We try to miss heaven more than we miss America.

And somehow God uses us.


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