In November of 2000, my family and I boarded a plane in Quito, Ecuador, and returned to life in the United States. It was a time of mixed emotions for me. I had spent a decade of my life in Central and South America. When left for the field, we took three tiny boys with us; when we returned, we had three young men and a daughter.
Every day I ask myself if I did the right thing by returning. Every day I hurt a little when I think of those brethren that I left behind, and may not see again until we all see our Lord together. I will reflect on those things in some of these blogs.
These posts are meant to be taken simply: as stories of everyday life as a missionary in the late 20th century. Some things have changed, and of course, my family's situation was unique in some ways. I do not pretend to be an expert in church planting nor missiology, and I defer to those dedicated people who are still on the field.
If you know me, please let me assure you that there has never been one day that I have felt resentment or dislike of the work that our family was sent to do. We felt a mysterious call to return to life in the states, and I have asked God several times since then, "Have I done everything you sent me back to do? May I return now?"
Feel free to comment on any items here. I have tried to be accurate, and I want to tell what was going on inside me as I experienced these events. I hope you enjoy reading these posts.
No comments:
Post a Comment