I’m sure you’ve seen the pictures floating around on your feed. Beautiful Americans visiting beautiful countries and people around the world. Sometimes in Africa. Sometimes in Haiti. Sometimes staying in the country but visiting the “scary” city. Those people are attempting to reach others. To teach them about Christ’s love. To bring hope to those they feel most need it. To make a difference in the hearts and minds trapped in a broken and bitter system.
I have always wanted to serve in countries that at the least require malaria shots and at most require an increase in my life insurance policy. I wanted to make a difference and I wanted to bring Christ to those who were poor or hungry or alone. It is, after all, what we are called to do. Often when we do not partake in the church mission trips to the poor countries, we feel like we are failing in some aspect.
Now, my calling has changed. You see, God lead me to a quiet, safe town. It’s so cold most of the time that mosquitos live maybe a month out of the year. No malaria shots. No life-threatening dangers. What is here, however, is a little girl. A little girl who gets hungry frequently and needs to be fed. A little girl who doesn’t like alone time and instead always wants playtime and cuddles. A little girl, it turns out, who needs me as much as the world at large needs me.
I am raising my calling. She must be shaped and molded into a good human. She must be encouraged to be kind and corrected when she is not. She must be taught how to hold on to her childlike love and to cling to a faith she currently only knows as Baby Jesus and nighttime prayers.
In all honesty, your servant pictures of continually bringing your children to the feet of Jesus will never be liked as many times or applauded as loudly as the one friend’s selfie over in Africa. You won’t ride as many faith-filled highs. You may do way more searching for God than feeling an overwhelming presence. But that is where you make disciples. That is where you serve. It isn’t about the good feelings or the praises of others. It is the daily grind. It is the continual submission. It is quiet, difficult, and real.
If littles are keeping you from the mission fields and you feel a mission call, remember this. Your home is your mission field. It may be a sanctuary of safety and security, but it still needs you. And it still needs Jesus. Disciples are not only made, they are raised, and you are making a difference here.