A Secret

So many people are happy that we are finally leaving for France. They are happy in a "we are excited for you and we just KNOW that God is going to do great things" kind of way. Really sweet. But can I let you in on a little secret?

I am scared to death.

Mostly, I am not a fearful person--except for when it comes to trying on swimming suits, which is a generally frightening experience that I avoid every Spring. But other than that, I don't have a lot of fears. Or at least I didn't. This missionary thing has me afraid. Very afraid.

There is much about our journey that I find rather fun. I look forward to learning a new language. I can hardly wait to make new friends. I am thrilled to get to see new places. None of those things are scary for me.

The scary thing is I don't know how to be a missionary. I did not go to missionary school. I do not have a Ph.D. in Missions. I am afraid I could really mess this up.

But then I remember that I can't mess it up, because God's grace is bigger than every mistake I can make. He loves the French people even more than I do, so if He can't work through me, I am confident that He will work in spite of me. He is just that good.

Still, I would prefer to be the kind of missionary that God can use. I would prefer to be, well, something great. And I'm not sure I will be. Heck, I'm not even sure I'll be a mediocre missionary.

I just might be a lousy missionary. And that, dear friends, is a scary thought to me.

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