I can scarcely believe this dear one found me in a field almost three years ago. I give thanks to One Who rescued her from sleeping in a bar and brought her home to live with us. She is a gift. I give thanks for how she is growing more beautiful every day. Beautiful in every way that matters.
I give thanks every time she looks in my eyes and says, “mama.”
Tonight the dust rises as incense mingled with prayers again from our little patch of earth. I sit in the cool dark air, moon lit with five little ones trying to fit on my lap, laws of space and mass stubbornly disregarded.
She comes and lays her hand on my head, praying her own litany of thanksgiving. Tears well in eyes and water the little ones leaning in close beneath.
“Thank you God,” she prays. “Thank you for Mama, for her loving us: that she loves every one of us. Show her tonight how much YOU love her.”
Oh sweet daughter HE IS. Just now. Through YOU.
Her words speak slow, speak deep, sweep me up again into the romance of the ages, the love story of the nations, written in dust, watered with tears, the very depth of what I am created for: KNOWING HIM.
I will say it again and again and again. In speech, in arcs and lines on a page, in pictures, in paint, with my life, with my breath.
Missions is about romance. It is not about strategy or methods or theology. Not ultimately. It is about romance. It is about Jesus winning for Himself a Bride from every tribe and tongue and language and people and nation. It is about finding her even while she sleeps in bars and brothels and bringing her home.
Can I say it again?
MISSIONS IS ABOUT ROMANCE. Not results or numbers or logic or reason. If it ever stops being about romance, I stop too. Stop until I find where I lost touch with Him. Only when I am in the center of this love story of His, do I have anything to offer.
My prayer for you: that YOU would be swept off your feet into the romance of HIS Good News right where you are reading. May He show YOU in this moment how wildly YOU too are loved.