Life as a Christian Woman

We adults can take the simplest things and make them into huge deals; mountains out of mole hills, as my mom used to say.

Look at weddings… what should be a happy union in front of family and friends becomes a stress-fest: what dress are you wearing, will the tuxes match (and fit!), how many are you inviting, what will you serve, what will the music be, traditional or more modern, etc., etc., etc.

Recently I got a lesson in keeping it simple from my daughter. This year at church, her age group has been studying missions and missionaries. I have enjoyed talking with her about it, because I remember (barely!) being her age and being in Mission Friends. I remember meeting missionaries, hearing their stories of exotic places, people and animals. It was all so National Geographic comes to Tennessee.

My daughter has been having the same experiences this year, although with a twist. The missionaries that she has met are members of our church who have given their lives in service to the Lord. She met two separate young couples, one couple serves in Niger, Africa, and the other couple in Southeast Asia. They tell the children stories of the people that they share the Lord’s love with, and the relationships they are building.

Then came the news…

One of our closest friends, a young woman I will call Karen (not her real name), was leaving to go overseas as a missionary. She would be serving in a country that does not welcome missionaries, where it is a crime to renounce the religion of the nation to become a Christian. A country where women are second-class citizens, yet she (and others like her) were called to talk to the hearts and minds of these people.

This didn’t come up suddenly. The entire process takes about two years (from application through training). But suddenly the day was here. Karen sat down with Emilee and explained she would be leaving and wouldn’t be able to see her for several years. She told her we could email and Skype (camera phones to talk to the other side of the world!), but there wouldn’t be any more playdates for awhile. And she told her why she was going, that God had called her into service.

There were a few tears, then the goodbyes.

That’s a lot for ad four year old to understand, isn’t it? Well, not really. It seems that Emi grasped the message quite well, thank you!

I was prepared for questions later that night; after all, when Karen had told me where she was going, I was filled with questions (is it safe, what will you take with you, how will you communicate with the native people, what will you wear, where will you live, is there a McDonalds nearby, etc.).

But Emi didn’t have any questions. I worried she was holding it all in (when was the last time a four year old held ANYTHING in?).

So I kept prodding her, gently, over the next day or two. Finally, I guess she got tired of me giving her the third degree. She turned to me, sighed, and in her very grown up four year old voice, said, “Mommy, it’s really very simple. God told Karen to go tell the people about Jesus, so they can go to heaven.”

Hmmm…I guess it really was pretty simple after all.