I Don't Want to Be a Missionary

It's funny, I remember thinking how crazy missionaries were before I became one... I never really wanted to be a missionary, never wanted to move to another country to do service work (maybe for a week or to study or some dramatic travel, sure), never wanted to do anything that seemed this "granola" if you will. The passport stamp was all I was shooting for. I remember thinking that the Wheaton College students who wanted to go into missions thought they were better than the rest of us.... martyrs or spiritual giants or something. They kind of annoyed me, really.

Not me - I wasn't going into missions. I was going to be something "big". I became more than happy at the WCA with all of the perks of travel, meeting famous speakers and enjoying an all-you-can-eat break room. I would not have anything to do with the missions field because that would cause me to be small - and I might even become backward and start to wear long skirts and not do much with my hair.

That said, I guess by the world's eyes, in the past year, small is what I've become. No perks, no travel, no family close by and little encouragement. No awards or trophies. It's tough, but I know God is doing something in me that would not have occurred without going through this process... he's humbling me. Man does it hurt, but I have a new view on life like the blinders have been removed. Well, He's still removing them.