Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Missionary (10/19/06)
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TITLE: SACRIFICIAL LOVE | Previous Challenge Entry
By Patricia Williams
10/22/06 -
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As early as my being in kindergarten the thread of missions was woven into my life. I enjoyed being involved in the bake sales, the swap meets, and gathering for the Dorcas meetings where we packed the clothing and other necessities so we could mail them to our missionary families. It made me feel warm on the inside as I watched my grandparents send them off at the post office.
I sat spellbound on the front pew as the missionaries told about the people they were helping and shared their many adventures. I loved being a part of what they were doing even if it was just helping Grandma bake cookies for the bake sale.
As the years passed the missionary thread was woven into a coat that covered my life. At twenty-three I was sent on a missions trip to Mexico. We had been told it was a small village made up of about twenty families. The weather had ruined their makeshift homes. They had no way of repairing anything, there was very little food left, and they didn’t have any way to earn money. We took as many supplies as we could but the Mexican government limited what we could take into their country.
In a few short hours the scenes of my life changed. There was no nice bed to sleep in, doors to lock, or refrigerators to grab a bite from. In fact, there was no electricity, which meant there were no fans, no radio’s, no nothing. This was a culture shock for me; for them it was their normal existence.
Why had these twenty families chosen to start a small village so far away from a larger town? The tales they shared were shocking. In Mexico, at that time, children were considered a commodity. By the time a child was five they were often an accomplished thief while little girls as young as ten earned money as prostitutes. These families had found a relationship with God and wanted to protect their children. They wanted God to be the center of their lives. They were paying a high price in the natural. They rejoiced in the provisions God was allowing us to supply for them. I cried, not for them, but for myself for not realizing how much God had granted me.
I felt transported in time to where the Israelites were slaves in Egypt having to make mud bricks with straw. I sensed what Adam and Eve must have experienced when they had to leave the Garden of Eden and earn their living by the sweat of their brow. I stood looking at the bricks as they dried in the sun. The church would be built first. It would be used as a shelter for them while we built individual living quarters.
They had one large community stove where they baked their bread and cooked their meals. Beans, peppers, crude potatoes, and tomatillos were their staples. They would grow in spite of the hot sun and lack of water. All three meals consisted of the same foods in limited amounts. The evening meal was the highlight of the day. After dinner there was music, worship, fun and dancing until everyone was exhausted and went to bed. There were no baths; water was a commodity. The beds were anything but soft but their hearts were full of gratitude and praise to a loving God. .
Their survival depended on their working together. The children played while the women were weaving baskets (when they had supplies). These were traded for 100 pound bags of beans whenever they got into town. They had one car. If it didn’t run they had to survive the best way they could. The rest of their time was spent caring for the daily necessities and schooling their children..
The homes we built were mansions to them. Their excitement and appreciation to God for His provision and love was felt by everyone. I went home, to my world, a lot closer to God . I had seen what it meant to sacrificially serve God even to the point of separating themselves from a world of sin that threatened to destroy their families. They weren’t afraid to earn their living by the sweat of their brow and do without earthly treasures to provide a safe place spiritually for their children. I learned more from them than they learned from me.
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