The Damn M Word

Yes I used damn in the title, sue me. I’ve heard this multiple times from many, many different people since announcing this adventure to Uganda. “Wow so you’re going to be a missionary?” Ugh. I don’t think I have enough words to accurately describe my complete and total disdain for that question. I never know what to say. Yes? No? Maybe? Kind of?  I DON'T KNOW. I’ve answered it with all of those answers- depending on my mood honestly.

I had a moment where I was called out as a missionary by someone here and I literally looked at them and said, “Who me?” We looked at each other with serious confusion. Because here's the thing: I just don’t picture myself as a missionary. I'm just a girl who is following hard after Jesus.

When I picture a missionary I picture someone who has wanted to do this and live in the jungles since they were young, someone probably raised in the Baptist church (sorry but it’s true!), and someone who is a little bit hippy dippy and doesn’t mind living in a hut in Africa.

 Well let’s just have an honest moment shall we? THAT IS SO NOT ME. Sometimes I cuss. I need a taco in the WORST WAY.I love shoes. I’ve been dreaming about chicken buffalo dip and queso. I miss my closet (in the US of course- I don’t have a closet here) and every time I get an email from Target I’m on the verge of tears. So what am I doing?

When Paul talked about going on the mission field and Jesus told us to go make disciples of all nations they literally meant it: GO.  I also think that sometimes going means plugging yourself in to where you are right now. And well right now I happen to be in Uganda. Africa. Not in a hut [thankfully] but right next door.

But does my task look any different than when I was living in the U.S? No. Jesus doesn’t change his mission for us based on our location. Now yes, our day to day may look extremely different but the basics? Yeah that hasn’t changed. We’re called to love Jesus, love people, period. It does not make one iota of difference if I’m doing that in the streets of Orlando or on the red dirt roads of Uganda, it just matters that I’m doing it. We can all think of the people God is calling on us to love: our friends, neighbors, that co-worker that makes you want to rip your hair out, quit and running screaming out of the office. So with that aren’t we all really missionaries? Not that we all live in a hut or spend all our time screaming about Jesus [I’ve had one too many run ins with the preaching loudly into a mic on the street corner, sorry not my jam]. But aren’t we all supposed to love His people? So aren’t we all missionaries?

So I really hate that question, “So you’re a missionary?” I would never describe myself that way even though if we’re being honest we’re all missionaries to this world. If you believe in Jesus and trust in Him it will come out in your relationships, and isn’t that the best way to share your friendship with Jesus? So here’s to swallowing the fact that maybe, possibly, I sorta might be a missionary. It's okay though cause so are you.

 But I still hate that word.

Just some thoughts from your not so average missionary.

xox.

P.S- Sorry Mom about the damn word! ;)