I’d taken my mom out for her birthday: falafel and jasmine rice at this great new Mediterranean place with only a handful of tables. We headed out, Barnes & Noble-bound to spend a birthday gift card for her, chatting and laughing. At a stoplight I glanced at the clock on the bank across the street, marveling at how fast time passed when she and I were together. Green light: my trusty minivan gathered its strength for the uphill left turn.
Today, we’re excited to hear from Rebecca Skinner. She’s an MK and TCK from Central and South America. Fun fact: Rebecca and her husband were one of the first couples to met on eharmony.com and get married! This September, they’ll celebrate 16 years of marriage alongside their twin boys.
The Perspectives on the World Christian Movement has turned Rebecca’s world on its head! She desires to see local churches strategically collaborate to take the good news of Jesus to every people, tribe, and tongue.
My first job out of college. A move into the unknown, blindly following God’s lead. The fear of putting myself out there in a relationship. The heart break of miscarriage. The joy of discovering how the way I was made could be amplified and put to task for God’s mission. Every speedbump or pothole or smooth stretch of land or triumphant finish line: Journaling has critically influenced it all for me.
Jeff Boesel, Director of Mobilization for One Challenge, shares his story today.
I sat there, phone in hand, gazing out the massive, slanting windows of my control tower.
God had answered my prayer. Well. Correction. He’d just called my bluff.
In my tenth year as an air traffic controller God had begun an active stirring in the hearts of my wife and me. Lighting up like the Vegas strip, everything around us seemed to point to a move to become global workers.
Sure, both of our parents had done that. But we weren’t convinced that was our path. Still, we were praying.
We were praying that God would close the door.
It had been one of those days.
I was attempting to stomach a failure of mine in my job, and I sat at the kitchen table with my husband, shaking my head. There may have been some tears involved. I explained that this past year, one of God’s key messages for me seemed this idea of making “no graven image”. I had to be really careful, I told him, not to remake God as “the God of what I want”–that Divine Waiter.
But my husband’s hazel eyes leveled with my blue ones. “I think you also have to be careful not to make an image of Him as the God who represents whatever you don’t want.”
We weren’t clearly “called” to Africa. That I know of.
I was thinking of this the other night, as friends and I gathered around steaming plates held on our laps with friends who’d just returned from a “vision trip”–hopefully helping them discern whether God was calling them to India. Unfortunately, clarity wasn’t showing up.
Maybe God will correct my thinking in the future. But there my husband and I were in Little Rock, with a bunch of little kids, contemplating whether or not to, you know, sell 70% of our stuff and wheel our bags to a continent I was sure was just buzzing with malaria and typhoid.
I say that—but honestly, I was thrilled. Africa was a dream come true, one I’d put on the shelf in the “maybe God will explain why” category of my mental Dewey decimal system. And as we discussed it, I don’t think I’ll forget what my husband said one night.