As a missionary mom, I’ve been moved to tears before.
Things have made me cry and moments have caused tears to well up in my eyes.
This process brings me to tears often… sometimes with joy, sometimes with sadness.
Often with overwhelm.
Maybe even with doubt.
Beginning with the act of mailing our very first communication with the missions department to the moments in training to heading home for furlough, I have a new definition of being moved to tears.
I remember one specific moment in our missionary training when I sat looking at a large crowd of missionaries.
Families of all different kinds, from many different places with different backgrounds, going to very different places around the world.
I sat and thought, “Wow. Within the next year or two, every single person sitting around this campfire will literally be scattered all over the globe sharing the faith and hope of Jesus.”
That, my friends, will move you to tears.
“How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news…” goes the very familiar verse.
Well, in that moment, not one of us had beautiful feet. We were all caked in mud and grime from our river crossing and mud-soaked hike into camp.
But, it was one of the most beautiful things I had ever witnessed.
A group of believers gathered together to worship, knowing that circumstances will push and pull at us until there are thousands of miles separating our new, budding friendships.
Missionary moms who were raising new TCKs just like I was.
Missionary moms who were planning to move their families across the world.
I felt honored to sit among them. I felt humbled to be counted as one who will go. I felt the prayers of family and friends lifting us up as we listened to the things our kids had learned at camp, their support overwhelming. I felt the presence of the Holy Spirit touching our hearts in new ways.
I felt the strength of numbers, of people with one goal serving the same purpose.
This missionary mom was moved to tears. You know the feeling… a big lump in the back of your throat as you try to swallow the heavy emotions.
We laughed, we joked, we talked, we sang… our kids played and we played.
We walked away strengthened, challenged and broken again for the task ahead.
Moved to tears… so many of us. Maybe all of us.
Sometimes I wonder about sharing so much of this here on the blog.
It has been my outlet of writing for so long.
Some things just feel so personal and that moment in time was one of them.
I don’t know who reads or who follows our journey but I do pray that someone, even just one will hear the heart behind each post and feel something bigger than all of us at work.
I pray that you will be challenged to grow, give, and maybe even go.
That you will feel the hugeness of the call and see your role in our ability to go.
I write to help you see how much we need you and your support.
Every person sitting around that fire has a network of support behind them. It is because of our networks that we have the strength to walk where we are going.
The fact is that to send that huge group of people around the world takes a huge group of all of you.
And, moments that move me to tears might move you too.
So, I share and pray and walk this missionary mom journey… spelling out word by prayerful word.