Forgotten

Sometimes I wonder if we are forgotten.

I imagine every missionary has been there before. Just because we wear the title of missionary doesn't mean that we are somehow perfect, or more spiritual, or holier. Mostly is just means that we have been obedient to a call God has placed on our lives and the willingness to do so came from the Holy Spirit at work within us. It is not of our own strength. Believe me. It is not because we are better or have 'skills'; it is mainly a matter of God's sovereignty. We were picked and equipped. Nothing of ourselves contributed to it. Just to get that out of the way and as a set up to the statement: we are not perfect people and we battle our flesh daily.

I lose my temper at bad drivers (because let's face it, I'm the best). I have a hard time being totally honest with people who ask for money. We are asked daily (often multiple times a day) and it hurts to say no. "I don't have anything" is easier to say to someone than, "I don't want to give you anything." Don't get me wrong, we love to help. But the truth is you can't help everyone. Sometimes I want to come home and work a regular job, get a regular paycheck, and have nice things (like air-conditioning, clean water, hot showers, and fast food). Sometimes I am ungrateful and spend too much time complaining that it takes about 2 hours to prepare a meal here. I can be lazy. Sometimes its really hard to try and think of all the vocabulary needed to do something, so I just avoid it. Other times, I mismanage money and spend too much on eating out or on an imported candy bar; mostly because after 3 Bible studies, discipleship, teaching, paying bills, spending hours getting groceries, visiting an orphanage with teens, running countless errands, etc, etc, etc, I'm too tired to stand in the kitchen for two hours and toast rice, peel countless veggies and potatoes, chop, cook, boil, etc so that we can eat something that doesn't cost an arm and a leg. Sometimes, my focus isn't on Christ and the mission, because I'm worried about the sufficiency of donations and whether or not I'm doing a good job or if my guilt over an afternoon nap or spending 6 bucks on hot wings is warranted. I say all this to say, we're not perfect. We are far from it. But God's grace is sufficient. Our hope in him (not ourselves) is sure. We struggle, we make sacrifices, we fail, but Christ sustains, he forgives, he supplies, and he strengthens us.

Back to the topic. Sometimes I wonder if we are forgotten. A few months ago, we went on furlough to the states. It was great. It was expensive. We are still trying to finish paying for the opportunity to share with churches, see supporters, and cherish some time with our family. But life was different. Life is different. We watch everything from afar. From the outside and sometimes it is lonely. Sometimes we wonder if we are forgotten. Every once in a while, someone will tell us, "I pray for you guys." It feels great to be remembered, but sometimes you wonder who's praying for you. Sometimes when we are really excited about something and share it, little to no response feels like we've been forgotten. We can't help but to compare the number of likes about ministry to the number of likes under the funny meme we shared. I don't mean to sound mean, but sometimes I wonder if we are forgotten. Not in the sense that you no longer think of us, but that you are no longer with us. Sometimes we share a need and it goes ignored. No like, no prayers, no help. That feels forgotten.

Sometimes I wonder if He is forgotten. I know I see hints of His memory in many places, but I wonder if His mission is still as important among His people. Sometimes it seems forgotten. I see people dreaming big. Making plans, buying houses, starting businesses, growing families, making great memories on vacations. Sometimes I wonder if in the midst of those things, in the midst of investing in those things, if the mission (if the Son) is forgotten. Sometimes, while looking for food to give someone to meet a need and share the gospel, I feel a little embarrassed handing over stale bread and dry beans we don't really know how to cook. I feel embarrassed standing there, as an American, representing of the wealthiest and most powerful nations in the world, yet my gift is found lacking.

I don't take for granted the many sacrifices and the amazing support of so many people. But sometimes I do struggle with the people who seem to have forgotten us. I don't say this to manipulate. I don't write it as a plea. I'm not communicating this for any reason other than it's on my heart. Its an area needing prayer. It's representative of the battle in me between my spirit and my flesh. A battle I assume each of you have had or can currently identify with. I struggle with the vision and dreams in my spirit, trying to reconcile them mentally with the feelings in my heart. Sometimes I feel forgotten.

Although I sometimes feel forgotten, I hold tight to the things I remember. I remember that God is sovereign and that he is good. I remember that he who called us is faithful. I remember that he will supply all needs according to his riches and for his glory. I remember that I can trust with confidence in the mission we've been assigned, that it isn't dependent on us. I remember that no matter how many times I fail, his grace is sufficient and his providence is abounding to every good work he has planned in advance for us. I remember that even though I may feel forgotten, He has not forgotten me. He has not forgotten the people of Cochabamba that we so earnestly desire to know him. I know that although so many of us may feel forgotten, God is a God who remembers. He remembers his people, he remember's his promise, he remembers his mission. Today I make that my meditation, and I decide to trust Him to supply, to orchestrate, to do according to his will for his glory. Not only in our lives, but in the lives of those back home, and in the lives of those here in Bolivia. May our great God be exalted in the hearts of men, and may his sacrifice, his mission, and his promise not be forgotten by those to claim to love him.