Missions... Ecuador... My Heart
My goodness. Rob Maupin does a wonderful job of overwhelming his students. He is my professor for Preparation for Cross-Cultural Ministry, my final missions class here at LCU. And it is by far the hardest class I have taken and I've taken a lot of hard classes. It's not hard due to tests or quizzes or things like that. It is just hard due to trying to wrap my mind around it all and make it applicable to me and any future ministry (including my upcoming internship to Peru) that I may be called to. I am growing overwhelmed by all of the different aspects that are involved with preparing to go to a field. It actually makes me feel naive and dumb in regards to what I know or have claimed to know about missions up until now. I feel so naive because what I know about missions is only a sliver and now I am beginning to get another sliver and am getting overwhelmed by it all. It's frustrating and humbling to say the least.
Missions is such an intricate part of who I am. I wrote last week about the story behind me coming to the conclusion that God was calling me to a life of full-time, cross-cultural ministry. But there is more to my story and how missions is a part of who I am. I've realized that I can't separate myself from my heart for missions and for the message that needs to be taken. I can't separate those two pieces of me without denying who I am to the very core. I am a young woman who strives to follow Jesus and the plan He has for her, which is leading her to a country that is unknown, to a people that is unknown, to a ministry that is unknown. That is who I am. I can't deny it.
When I was in 7th or maybe 8th grade, I got up early one Sunday morning to drive an hour to Madison with my mom, older sister and grandma. We were skipping church at the church my dad preached at to go to one in Madison to hear a special speaker. Two special speakers actually. We went to listen to Steve Saint, the son of murdered missionary pilot Nate Saint, and Mincaye, the Waodani warrior who murdered Nate and 4 other missionary men. The Waodani people are found in the jungles of Ecuador and are known for their history of being brutal hunters and killers (of both animal and man). Nate Saint and 4 of his friends (including Jim Elliot) went into the jungles, to the heart of Waodani territory to take the message of Jesus to them. After only a few days, the men got to spend the afternoon with 3 Waodani, two women and a man and thought the interaction had gone well and held promise for future visits. A few days later a hunting party came and killed them all on the banks of the Uruguay River. Later, Nate Saint's sister, Rachel and Jim Elliot's wife, Betty returned to the Waodani villages and delivered the message that the men had died for. And now there is a thriving body of believers. And Steve's family now lives and works with the Waodani people. As a young 7th or 8th grader, I was struck by the story and broke down in tears. But then I got the chance to meet and speak with Steve and Mincaye. And I shook the Waodani warrior's wrinkled hands and knew that he was changed man. He was a man who was sorry for what he had done and devoted to living for Jesus. That changed me.
From that point on, I knew I wanted to go to Ecuador. I knew I wanted to travel through that country and one day meet the Waodani in their own village, in their own land. I knew that my heart wanted to go there. And then I got the chance to in 2004 with CIY. I was blown away when I landed in the country. I was blessed beyond anything to have the chance to see that country (even though I was far away from the Waodani and in a city, not the jungle) where Jim Elliot, Nate Saint, Roger Youderian, Pete Fleming and Ed McCully gave their lives for the sake of the Gospel. I was humbled to be in the same nation where such great faith was lived out. And from that point on... my heart belonged to the nation and people of Ecuador. To this day, I haven't gotten my heart back. Yes, pieces of it are now in Italy, Mexico, Poland and soon to be in Peru. But my heart is in Ecuador. And it will be forever.
*Please note, the above story is a condensed story. If you want to know more read Jungle Pilot or Through Gates of Splendour to start out.
Missions is such an intricate part of who I am. I wrote last week about the story behind me coming to the conclusion that God was calling me to a life of full-time, cross-cultural ministry. But there is more to my story and how missions is a part of who I am. I've realized that I can't separate myself from my heart for missions and for the message that needs to be taken. I can't separate those two pieces of me without denying who I am to the very core. I am a young woman who strives to follow Jesus and the plan He has for her, which is leading her to a country that is unknown, to a people that is unknown, to a ministry that is unknown. That is who I am. I can't deny it.
When I was in 7th or maybe 8th grade, I got up early one Sunday morning to drive an hour to Madison with my mom, older sister and grandma. We were skipping church at the church my dad preached at to go to one in Madison to hear a special speaker. Two special speakers actually. We went to listen to Steve Saint, the son of murdered missionary pilot Nate Saint, and Mincaye, the Waodani warrior who murdered Nate and 4 other missionary men. The Waodani people are found in the jungles of Ecuador and are known for their history of being brutal hunters and killers (of both animal and man). Nate Saint and 4 of his friends (including Jim Elliot) went into the jungles, to the heart of Waodani territory to take the message of Jesus to them. After only a few days, the men got to spend the afternoon with 3 Waodani, two women and a man and thought the interaction had gone well and held promise for future visits. A few days later a hunting party came and killed them all on the banks of the Uruguay River. Later, Nate Saint's sister, Rachel and Jim Elliot's wife, Betty returned to the Waodani villages and delivered the message that the men had died for. And now there is a thriving body of believers. And Steve's family now lives and works with the Waodani people. As a young 7th or 8th grader, I was struck by the story and broke down in tears. But then I got the chance to meet and speak with Steve and Mincaye. And I shook the Waodani warrior's wrinkled hands and knew that he was changed man. He was a man who was sorry for what he had done and devoted to living for Jesus. That changed me.
From that point on, I knew I wanted to go to Ecuador. I knew I wanted to travel through that country and one day meet the Waodani in their own village, in their own land. I knew that my heart wanted to go there. And then I got the chance to in 2004 with CIY. I was blown away when I landed in the country. I was blessed beyond anything to have the chance to see that country (even though I was far away from the Waodani and in a city, not the jungle) where Jim Elliot, Nate Saint, Roger Youderian, Pete Fleming and Ed McCully gave their lives for the sake of the Gospel. I was humbled to be in the same nation where such great faith was lived out. And from that point on... my heart belonged to the nation and people of Ecuador. To this day, I haven't gotten my heart back. Yes, pieces of it are now in Italy, Mexico, Poland and soon to be in Peru. But my heart is in Ecuador. And it will be forever.
*Please note, the above story is a condensed story. If you want to know more read Jungle Pilot or Through Gates of Splendour to start out.
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