Worst missionary EVER

1/28/2015

People keep telling me, “This is a time of rest. Enjoy it!”
I keep telling myself, “this is a time of rest. Enjoy it.”
I go over and over in my mind all of the reasons as to why I need to “rest” so much- and I believe them.

For a time.

Until I get fed up of “resting”.

I sit and listen in my tiny house to the worship that goes on Sundays, and I REALLY question myself. I must be the worst missionary ever. I can’t even stand to be in a building, worshiping God with the body of Christ without getting sick and throwing up.
I wake up Sundays refreshed and ready for church and a full day of activities. Only to last about 10 minutes with these beautiful faces, before I’m sent running back to my bathroom doubled over.

Why Lord?

I head out with the team to pass out food to these precious children of God, only to end up on my knees in the dirt spilling out my last meal. Failed. Again.
My deepest fear, is that these precious, precious people, will believe this reaction is to THEM. Their living conditions, their way of life, their hearts.

Why Lord?

How can someone who professes Jesus and professes to be a missionary be as lazy and out-of-the-picture as I am? I can’t even get out of bed without feeling overwhelmed and sick and crawling back in.

I KNOW God called me here. My husband felt the tug on his heart as much as I did. We are greatly encouraged as more doors open up and dreams and desires to honor God fill our hearts. I am so blessed to be learning from these people here, yet I question; is it enough?

(I chuckle as I write this because some of the beautiful woman here call me Sarai, mother of nations.)


Abram was 75 years old when it is first recorded that God promised him a child. Or rather, that he would one day become a great nation, and that his name would be blessed. (Genesis 12:2-4)


I was around the age of 12 when I felt God softening my heart for the Philippines and the children here. I held tight to the promise that he laid on my heart of provision and hope for this seemingly impossible dream. (Jeremiah 29:11-13)

Abram asked the Lord again, “Who will be my heir? I have no children.” The Lord promised him again that he would have a son. This time specifically saying a son from his own body. 
(Genesis 15:4) When the waiting seemed to be endless, Sarai decided to take matters into her own hands. She demanded Abram sleep with her maidservant in order to conceive a child, since she seemed to be barren. (Genesis 16:2)

Abram and Sarai doubted God. He had clearly spoken to them, and yet they decided to make things happen in their own way. Over and over again I doubt. I know I am here for a reason, yet I question why my stomach doesn't cooperate with my heart. I try to take matters into my own hands-and fail. Surprise. I am waiting for God to reveal his plan for me, and I am learning to be content. If you know me at all, this is NOT an easy thing! My desire to be on the move and wanderlust sets in, and the first thought that pops in to my mind? “Let’s move to Africa!” “Calm down Sarai, let’s let God work in his own time!” Don’t worry guys. I still firmly believe I am where God has called me. Africa is just my Sarai side pulling at me.

When Abram was 99 years old. NINETY-NINE. God made a covenant with Abram, he also changed their names to Abraham and Sarah. And guess what? God ONCE AGAIN told Abraham that Sarah would bear a son for him. Abraham fell on the floor laughing. Actually he fell on his face… “Will a son be born to a man a hundred years old? Will Sarah bear a child at the age of ninety?” (Genesis 17:16-17)

Unbelievable! We’re old now! And still waiting!
I’m 19, not quite old. AT ALL. Imma baby! (And having a baby…) This 4 months of being sick and “waiting” have been PURE torture. This time of “resting and waiting” is practically killing me. I can’t even imagine what Abraham’s Sarah is thinking! If she is anything like me, she is probably going crazy.



So Abraham and Sarah sit and wait. One day 3 visitors show up. The Lord speaks again. This time he says, “This time NEXT year, you will have a child.” Sarah laughs. Then denies laughing, but still laughed. (Can you imagine lying to God? I guess we try to do that daily whenever we try to justify our sins…)

Over and over again God showed me that being an overseas missionary was where he wanted me. Regardless of my hesitations at times. This time he’s blowing me away. He’s telling me to sit and wait. How do I know? Well… If I get up and join in the festivities going on I puke. Probably a message to go back to sitting and waiting. Trust me, I’ve tried. It just results in public displays of my last meal. I also know that he is telling me to stay here and that he has HUGE plans for me. How do I know this too? Well, not only am I reminded by the precious faces God is putting around me. But as soon as I even mentioned moving on to Michael, he started slamming open doors saying STAY, and slamming shut the doors that allowed us to go. He’s pretty obvious when he wants to be and you’re willing to listen. “Yes Abraham’s Sarah, you are going to have a kid next year. All things are possible with God right?”

So, at the age of 90 years old, Sarah bears a son. Isaac. Finally, Gods promise came through. (Genesis 21:2-5) They had waited and waited. They had doubted, sinned, taken matters in their own hands, yet they waited, and God’s promise was fulfilled.


God's promise to Sarah was a son, God's promise to me is the joy and fulfillment of knowing I served Him well.  I have yet to receive my "Isaac". I am waiting for God’s promise, I just don’t know when that promise will be fulfilled. I have my doubts as I lie in bed feeling as if I were a failure, I try to take matters in to my own hands when I push my body and end up regretting it. I sin daily, but I also come crawling on my knees to my Lord daily. I sin. I fail. I am a HORRIBLE missionary. But I guess when it comes down to it, being a missionary isn't supposed to be me doing what I do, but God doing what He does THROUGH me. Right now he is working on growing His child in me. A child that will be raised to be a failure so that God can redeem him and work through him. Why? Because his momma was created to bring glory to God. That’s the promise I hold on too. I believe God promised me that he will use me for His glory. That He would shine through me and eventually color my words in everything I do. In turn, I pray that each of my children hold to the promise that God will use them to bring him glory too.  

Isaiah 43:7

Bring your sons from afar, bring your daughters from the ends of the earth, everyone who is called by MY name, whom I have created for MY glory, whom I formed and made.

A few of the precious girls from the streets have been joining the Gumbas!

Iv(B)a and Jhem!

One of the boys in Paradise Village praying.

Guess who ate balut?!? Michael did! He was a trooper and ate the whole thing. He is now officially a "real Filipino"