I wouldn’t care if you caught me dancing in the streets right now. (I can finally relate to David in his little tiff with Michal.) I wouldn’t be able to stop even if my singing and praising and carrying on got on the nerves of my little darling. All I know is that I gotta give God his props.
Miracles are happening today.
The movies seem to depict Africans as either purely innocent victims or absolutely corrupt abusers. In reality, people are the same wherever you go: we have good and bad in us. The extreme circumstances here in Africa certainly provide an opportunity for people to exhibit their character traits, but most do some things right and some things wrong.
The beautiful thing about being in relationship with God is that we can achieve personal holiness even as we extend grace to those who do not. It is this experience that motivates me to minister to others, whether to strangers across the sea or to members of my own family.
Which reminds me: How can I graciously instill this desire for personal holiness in my off-to-explore-dangerous-Monrovia-all-by-herself-without-permission daughter?
As my sage daughter says, only a moron would go where we’re going. And yet tomorrow she and I head out to the war-torn country of Liberia in West Africa. (In just a few hours, actually. Whoa! I’d better get to bed!)
Some folks may admire you for being a missionary, but not many. You certainly can’t take on work like this simply for the admiration of others—or you will be sorely disappointed. Honestly, you’ll probably get more disapproval than anything else. My own mother told me at dinner tonight that it wasn’t too late to change my mind. She then began lecturing me on being more responsible and taking better care of my daughter.
Is it more appropriate for me to keep Lydia in this safe suburban neighborhood or to introduce her to the broader world where she can better see God at work?