My intention, when writing this, was to make it a column to be submitted for the local newspaper (where I work). But when my proofreader (my mom) read it, she said some things were too personal and needed to be changed. Unfortunately, I have a REALLY bad habit of getting attached to my stories, so I wanted to change the audience rather than the content. I hope you enjoy it and get a glimpse of what is the heartbeat of my family, my church, and most importantly, the Lord.
When I was a little kid, I learned a song at a Vacation Bible School. To this day, I still remember it:
"Missionaries tell of Jesus, 'round the world, everywhere. I can help them with my money, I can help them with my prayers."
I didn't learn this song at the church I now attend, but the church I now attend has a world missions conference each year. Missionaries who are either traveling the country for support to get to their field or missionaries on furlough will come and share their heart, their passion, their ministry.
(FIRST: some backstory...) My first involvement in the missions conference was as a kid taking part in the Parade of Nations. All of us from the kids choir would carry a flag--a lot of times it would be MUCH bigger than the student herself, dress up in ethnic garb and parade in front of the church. About three years ago, I had the opportunity to actually facilitate the Parade of Nations. On both fronts, it's a very fun experience.
I would continue to be in the parade up until middle school. While in the youth group, we put on a play during the banquet of the missions conference on the souls of men. But unfortunately, the deep, theological message of the play somehow got warped by the audience to be the comedic situation of the skit. To this day, my brother and sister and I laugh at the play's misfortune while still trying to figure out what happened.
Regardless, my four years in Springfield didn't leave me out of the loop when it came to missions conferences. We would have a weekly conference at the church I attended in Missouri, while at school we would have Missions Emphasis Week. (backstory...OVER)
So when I came back home after college, missions conferences were still familiar to me but some things had changed--one of which was my dad becoming the missions committee director. In his role, our family has the opportunity to get to know the missionaries that come to the conference in a sit-down setting. This year, again, gave us that opportunity.
My parents found themselves meeting the missionaries at the church on Wednesday night; my sister and I would proceed to meet them at an early dinner before the first service. At the table with us were a couple and their little boy who had been on the field for about five years, another couple with their baby son who would be heading to their country hopefully by this summer, and a single woman who was also earning support to head to her field. We were also joined by the speaker of the conference and his wife, as well as the pastor and associate pastor.
The food was great, the fellowship was good, and I left that meal making a commitment to open the service with a solo (with about 30 minutes to mentally prepare myself). After I sang, we watched the parade of nations, saw the single missionary present her testimony and video, and listened to the evangelist. He brought a very good message, and all in all it was a good service, which piqued my interest for the next night. I even Facebooked about it the next day.
"Seriously, if you're not there, you're missing out," I posted.
Thursday night, same routine with the veteran couple presented their field. But already, you could sense the momentum building. A lot of times, the videos will show little kids in their home, some of them with the sweetest yet most heartbreaking looks on their face. That always hits home to me--kids are absolutely precious and I want some one day--because I want these little ones in third-world countries to learn about Jesus.
I will say, though, that Thursday was cool. My dad was used in part of the message, and I--as the social media enthusiast that I am--took a photo of him and posted it to Facebook that night.
Friday night (same song, third verse), surprisingly, brought a larger-than-expected crowd to the church, which definitely ended up being a God-thing. We heard the young couple present their field and most evidently, their heart for the field--how God had been working in their lives for so long to bring it to a culmination of where they are and where they will be.
And again, the momentum was building, ever so slightly and calmly. I think this was probably one of the few times that I really, truly grasped the urgency and intensity of everything that surrounded the conference. Even on Saturday, our international dinner, had a jubilant spirit to it.
Even though I had spent all day Saturday baking homemade tortilla chips and making a Mexican cornbread casserole, it was nice to sit there with my family and the young missionary family and enjoy food, fellowship and even a short film that tied everything together. My dad even sang with the single missionary "Jesus Loves Me" in Spanish (see the video below!). For as many conferences that have almost plateau-ed on Friday night, it just kept getting better, and better...
(FIRST: some backstory...) My first involvement in the missions conference was as a kid taking part in the Parade of Nations. All of us from the kids choir would carry a flag--a lot of times it would be MUCH bigger than the student herself, dress up in ethnic garb and parade in front of the church. About three years ago, I had the opportunity to actually facilitate the Parade of Nations. On both fronts, it's a very fun experience.
I would continue to be in the parade up until middle school. While in the youth group, we put on a play during the banquet of the missions conference on the souls of men. But unfortunately, the deep, theological message of the play somehow got warped by the audience to be the comedic situation of the skit. To this day, my brother and sister and I laugh at the play's misfortune while still trying to figure out what happened.
Regardless, my four years in Springfield didn't leave me out of the loop when it came to missions conferences. We would have a weekly conference at the church I attended in Missouri, while at school we would have Missions Emphasis Week. (backstory...OVER)
So when I came back home after college, missions conferences were still familiar to me but some things had changed--one of which was my dad becoming the missions committee director. In his role, our family has the opportunity to get to know the missionaries that come to the conference in a sit-down setting. This year, again, gave us that opportunity.
My parents found themselves meeting the missionaries at the church on Wednesday night; my sister and I would proceed to meet them at an early dinner before the first service. At the table with us were a couple and their little boy who had been on the field for about five years, another couple with their baby son who would be heading to their country hopefully by this summer, and a single woman who was also earning support to head to her field. We were also joined by the speaker of the conference and his wife, as well as the pastor and associate pastor.
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| Janice Hickey, our missionary to Ecuador |
"Seriously, if you're not there, you're missing out," I posted.
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| The Goodman Family, our missionaries to Australia |
I will say, though, that Thursday was cool. My dad was used in part of the message, and I--as the social media enthusiast that I am--took a photo of him and posted it to Facebook that night.
 | |||
| The Compton Family, our missionaries to Peru |
And again, the momentum was building, ever so slightly and calmly. I think this was probably one of the few times that I really, truly grasped the urgency and intensity of everything that surrounded the conference. Even on Saturday, our international dinner, had a jubilant spirit to it.
Even though I had spent all day Saturday baking homemade tortilla chips and making a Mexican cornbread casserole, it was nice to sit there with my family and the young missionary family and enjoy food, fellowship and even a short film that tied everything together. My dad even sang with the single missionary "Jesus Loves Me" in Spanish (see the video below!). For as many conferences that have almost plateau-ed on Friday night, it just kept getting better, and better...
Sunday. Faith Promise Missions Sunday. A brief explanation on what this is: you make a commitment to God on how much money you will give to missions throughout the entire year, which can be done on a weekly or monthly basis. We'd been hearing about the need and our theme "Who is going to fill their shoes?" the entire week from the evangelist, so since most of us hadn't been called to physically go, were we as a church ready to send our money for the cause?
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| Monte Martin, our evangelist, and his wife Leddie |
In the past, we've set some goals. Some were met, some were not. As a kid I remember seeing $75,000 for a year, and we'd meet it, and it would go up the next year. There were also years where nothing was said about the goal, which kind of told me that we didn't make it (personally, I think it should have been addressed to make it a challenge, but that's just me).
There were also some years we kept our goal around the same number. Maybe it was the decrease in numbers due to families moving, people leaving or the death of faithful givers...I don't really know.
The 2013 goal set was around $87,000. And just like other years, we've had people pass away at the church, and perhaps a few people leave for whatever reasons. And this year, we also counted up the totals on Sunday night. We pulled out the iPad calculators and also had the help of the missionaries to count the totals. Our weekly totals were already outstanding, so we heard the monthly totals read out. Also good.
I knew we were pretty close--we might have even reached the goal. But when the pastor read the total at the end of the service...my mind? It was BLOWN.
$109,000. For 2013. You would have thought we won a free car, or the Mustangs won the state championship, or the Rangers won the pennant. The auditorium erupted with cheers and claps while being overtaken by a spirit of joy. We met our goal and exceeded our goal in a way that only God would have known. And we can only thank Him for that.
So Sunday night, after church, we had one last chance as a family to spend with our missionaries, which was great and even a bit humorous as we had said our goodbyes in the auditorium. But once again, it was another opportunity to not only get to know them, but for them to get to know us--who we are, what we do and how we live.
As we proceeded to say our final goodbyes, I looked around me. It was one of those moments I wanted to soak in and ponder. I saw firm embraces between the ladies, little kids playing with each other and some of the men even playing along too. In the midst of the laughs, tears and joy, there was something else to this week.
It was FUN. It was a joy to meet people--who I personally consider my heroes--who have a passion, a calling, and follow it to the literal ends of the earth. They weren't just our missionaries (the church took all of them on for support), but they had become friends. Whether we see them again now, in the future or when we all get to Heaven, I'm sure it will be a great time.
So from a packed corner in a Chinese restaurant to a wide-open gymnasium with the smell of pizza wafting in the air, our journey came full circle. But at the end, we had grown stronger, closer and unified for the cause of Christ in world missions. And I must say I am eager to see where all of this takes us in 2013.
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