On a hot evening in spring, our air conditioner had kicked on outside our bedroom window and woke me up in the middle of the night. I wasn’t able to fall back asleep after that, not because of the noise, but because God was calling me, and I told him I was willing to be a missionary.
You don’t become a missionary by raising money and flying to a foreign country. You do it by being obedient to God. Tell people about Jesus where you live. Get out of your comfort zone. Sell something precious and apply it to your debts. Make a sacrifice. Develop better friendships. There is an old saying: “Dress for the job you want, not the job you have.” While this is not to be taken literally in this sense, (please, don’t start wearing the national garb of the country you want to go to just yet). However, somewhere in the process, we have to make a conscious decision that there is no going back.
Almost everyone who has attended church has had a card handed to them by a missionary at some point. You know, the picture card with the missionary family smiling on the front and details of how to contact and support the missionary in their country of calling. We affectionately call them “prayer cards” because as missionaries, our heart’s desire is that you’ll pray for us every time you see one. We keep all of ours that we have collected on our refrigerator. This has created a large, colorful piece of art- a collage of some of our best friends on the planet.
We continued to pray for connections, provision, and miracles. We talked about RFK everywhere we went and networked with many other churches, foster parents, and social workers. Doors began to open, and others began to catch the vision. We began to see miraculous provision. As we prayed for social workers to sign off allowing children to attend, the signatures began to come in.