Missions: Glorious, not glamorous

Missions is really hard.

I write this at the risk of stating the obvious because there still exists a false idea that missions is one thrilling adventure after another, hiking mountains to preach the name of Jesus to unconverted tribes all while wearing dri-fit clothing, drinking from coconuts, and singing praise songs.

Has that happened in my life? Yes. Does that accurately describe my day-to-day life? Not even close.

The founders of Family Missions Company are famous for saying that while mission life isn’t glamorous, it is glorious. This is true.

There is nothing glamorous about the stench of human waste in an overcrowded hospital ward, bedsores that refuse to heal after months of intensive treatment, and medical bills so high that you sincerely begin to wonder if God will again work a miracle and provide the funds to pay for it all.

Update: Two days later, Michael is still in a very hot, open-air transient ward
waiting for a hospital room to become available.

Yet how glorious to stand at the bedside of a dying child and know that, if Jesus soon calls him home, at least you had the opportunity to pray with him and to comfort his mother.

How glorious to be present when a stranger passes away in a neighboring cot -- to bring the love of our Almighty God to his family now drenched in grief by the loss of their father.

How glorious to assure parents who have lost all hope that God wants to provide for them, that they need not worry about the costs which they could never afford and rather focus on helping their child to heal.

I need to remember “glorious, not glamorous” on days like today. We began the day at 1:45am, transferring 21-year-old Michael (read his story here) in an ambulance across islands to a second hospital and then to a third, trying to find him the right doctor to treat his lupus and severe infections. All throughout the day we prayed and prayed for miracles, for our funds to stretch far enough to cover the bills, for an available room in the hospital, etc.

About 4pm this afternoon we had a new visitor at our house, a man whose 1-year-old girl has just been hospitalized for pneumonia, dehydration, fever, seizures, and possible brain damage. In my human weakness, I don’t want to take on this case. It means repeating the process of transferring another patient to the mainland all over again tomorrow. It means another teammate might have to accompany this family each step of the way to ensure they are receiving proper care and have their needs met. It means more expensive bills that we may not be able to pay if we do not receive enough donations.

But our God! For Him, these mountains are nothing - they melt like wax before Him. Our God is unconcerned with official diagnoses and dollar figures. Our God, using us as His instruments, wants to heal His children physically but even more so spiritually.

Thank you for becoming a part of this mission. Thank you for storming heaven with your prayers! Please help us to continue the work God has called us to do by donating to my mission fund, rebeccatilyou.fmcmissions.com. We need your help!! We are so grateful for every donation you make.