Confession: I've spent the last few days starting applications to every single missions organization and overseas opportunity I can find.
I seem to have this wanderlust that consumes me.
It's this idea that my life would somehow be magically better if it were in some exotic location, holding small children and eating weird foods.
It's funny how selective my memory can be, since I literally just returned from a year of that exact lifestyle.
And I hated it.
I'm not sure what it is about this constant need for adventure. I would lie on the ground in the middle of Africa or Asia or wherever we happened to be and moan about how we needed to "go on an adventure." One time that landed us in the back of a semi truck with a Portuguese- speaking driver, another time it got us hopelessly lost near a mountain as the sun was setting and our shoes were disintegrating.
I always seem to want to be "anywhere but here." It's as if I need this constant dramatic music to be playing or I'm just not satisfied.
Paul learned the secret of being content in any and every situation... even the monotonous days spent in jail, where I'm sure he truly understood the desire for "anywhere but here."
Why is it not enough to be here, in one place, doing one thing, making an impact on one person?
How has that somehow become "less Christian" than the missionary who goes off to the bush and preaches all day?
I'll tell you this: it gets old fast.
You're not a better Christian because your current background is glamorous.
You're not more holy because you love "the least of these" for fifteen minutes before packing up for the next place.
Americans need Jesus, too.
And they're not too interested in a Savior who is here one day and gone the next. Sometimes, the most "Christian" thing to do is to stick around...
...even when that's significantly less exciting than hopping on the next flight out of here.
So turn up the volume on the dramatic music, and leave your bag alone.
There is work to be done here, and it will never be finished if the workers keep jumping ship.
I seem to have this wanderlust that consumes me.
It's this idea that my life would somehow be magically better if it were in some exotic location, holding small children and eating weird foods.
It's funny how selective my memory can be, since I literally just returned from a year of that exact lifestyle.
And I hated it.
I'm not sure what it is about this constant need for adventure. I would lie on the ground in the middle of Africa or Asia or wherever we happened to be and moan about how we needed to "go on an adventure." One time that landed us in the back of a semi truck with a Portuguese- speaking driver, another time it got us hopelessly lost near a mountain as the sun was setting and our shoes were disintegrating.
I always seem to want to be "anywhere but here." It's as if I need this constant dramatic music to be playing or I'm just not satisfied.
Paul learned the secret of being content in any and every situation... even the monotonous days spent in jail, where I'm sure he truly understood the desire for "anywhere but here."
Why is it not enough to be here, in one place, doing one thing, making an impact on one person?
How has that somehow become "less Christian" than the missionary who goes off to the bush and preaches all day?
I'll tell you this: it gets old fast.
You're not a better Christian because your current background is glamorous.
You're not more holy because you love "the least of these" for fifteen minutes before packing up for the next place.
Americans need Jesus, too.
And they're not too interested in a Savior who is here one day and gone the next. Sometimes, the most "Christian" thing to do is to stick around...
...even when that's significantly less exciting than hopping on the next flight out of here.
So turn up the volume on the dramatic music, and leave your bag alone.
There is work to be done here, and it will never be finished if the workers keep jumping ship.
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