When Annie and I
left the United States to be missionaries I remember saying to her, “you know,
people are going to die.” We are going to be in Chile, and people are going to
die. It is just a fact of life for a missionary that while they are abroad,
there are certainly going to be waves of change in the place where they are
from.
I don’t want to
be morbid, but I do want to share some of my raw emotion and that will require
talking about an undesirable situation. A couple of weeks ago I got the message
that my grandfather’s health was declining. I called him that day to talk with
him and pray with him. We talked for about five minutes. I knew he wasn’t doing
well when he answered the phone and said, “Kyle, how’s the war?” His mind wasn’t
completely there at times, but I could tell he understood just about everything
I said. By the time the phone call was ending I was really choking up as the thought
occurred to me, “I’m about to say goodbye to my grandpa for the last time.” I
had a difficult time holding it together. I got off the phone and just wept.
My grandpa and I
bonded when I was younger as I took an interest in woodworking. He is quite the
artist, and he taught me the tricks of the trade of artistic woodwork. We made
some beautiful things as well as developed a close bond. We talked about his
childhood, his religious background, his work, inflation (of all things), how
he and grandma fell in love, war stories, and other things. I am very thankful
that one day after we finished a wood project I went to lunch with him and my
grandma at one of their favorite restaurants in La Habra, the Fish Company. There
I explained to them the gospel and asked them if they had put their faith in
Christ as their Saviour. I remember the affirmative response as clearly as if
it was yesterday, “We believe in salvation by grace through faith in Christ.” I
take comfort in the fact that grandpa knows Christ as his Saviour. His health
has not been well at all. He was in the hospital yesterday and today and had to
have a lot of tests done. I don’t know if he is going to die soon or not, but
this has definitely made death of loved ones very real.
Right now Annie’s
family is having basically a reunion. There are Aunts, Uncles, cousins, etc.
getting together for her grandmother’s 80th birthday. She never
complains that God’s calling on our lives has taken us so far from loved ones;
in fact, she never complains about anything. However, I know it is difficult for
her to not be there.
As a missionary,
one of the things you sacrifice, to some extent, is the relationships dearest
to you. You miss pregnancies, births, deaths, marriages, birthdays, etc. And
although it doesn’t make the reality of sacrifice any lesser, I know these
sacrifices of pale in comparison to what Christ sacrificed for us. Looking to
Jesus is always a good choice. He is worthy of my all. He is God’s only begotten Son and God made Him a
missionary. He left the glories of heaven to be born as a lowly human and dwell
among sinful men. The word missionary means “a sent one” and Christ, who has
sent us, was Himself sent by the Father: “…as
my Father hath sent me, even so
send I you.” (John 20:21)
There is a
wonderful promise that means a lot to me as a missionary:
Matthew 19:29
And every one that
hath forsaken houses, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife,
or children, or lands, for my name's sake, shall receive an hundredfold, and
shall inherit everlasting life.
I am not discouraged at all. I don't want to quit. I'm not thinking about throwing in the towel. I am convinced that the missionary life is the best life. I just needed somewhere to express myself. I'm thankful for the assurance that any current suffering is nothing to be compared to the glory that shall come (Romans 8:18 & 2 Corinthians 4:17).
