When I am weak

Most days when I hear about the 'sacrifices' that missionaries around the globe are making I look at my life, sitting here on my plush couches, rug underfoot, and coffee in hand, and I think “life as a missionary is not rough at all.” I drive to town and shop for food at a regular store, and even treat the boys to a strawberry yoghurt ice cream made by Nestle. Heinz sweet chilli sauce is in abundance and since I couldn't find it in the USA, a part of me feels like Africa is more indulgent than my previous residence. Even my cravings to scour the isles at Marshalls and the Macy's clearance racks on a weekly basis have subsided, and the temptation to spend my kwacha at PEP and Mr. Price just doesn't exist.

(Ryan and I after our first date)

“Whom shall I send, And who will go for Us?” (said the Lord), “Then I said, “here am I! Send me.” (Isaiah 6:8)

The most memorable game of tennis I ever played was in the late summer of 2000. I giddily stood on the court trying to impress my opponent with my down the line back hand. The other 'tennis players' were suspiciously preoccupied with gardening, and we spent more time at the net in conversation than we did at the service line. Although the thought of dating might have crossed my mind, I didn't really entertain the idea. Then I heard the line, “any girl who marries me has to know that I'm going to be a missionary Doctor, there isn't going to be a pile of money, just the pleasure of following the calling of God, most likely to Africa.” With the adventurous spirit of my 19 yr old self, I began to imagine the life that he briefly described.

(Ryan's graduation from LLU medical school 2005)

“God who has saved us, and called us with a Holy calling, not according to our works, but according to His own purpose and grace which was given to us in Christ Jesus before time began.” (2 Timothy 1:9)

For 19 years, there was no out of the ordinary calling in my life. I was content to be an HR business lady, working my way up a top company downtown Sydney, and enjoying the proximity to my family and friends. This was the direction I had perceived on my own for my own life.

Then I met Ryan, who with great assurance and conviction knew that God had called him and given him the tools necessary to plan his life for the service of others.

“Yes! I'm in – I can totally buy into this man's mission” I contemplated after our tennis date. “Besides, what girl needs money, fancy clothes, and overpriced meals with ambiance?”

During medical school we joined the Deferred Mission Appointee (DMA) program. We shared a passion for overseas work with Ryan's classmates and their spouses. We eagerly anticipated our own calls to mission service and wondered exactly what God had in mind for us.

(Ryan during residency at St John Hospital in Detroit, MI)

Then residency came, and the fire was still burning, but it soon became like a pilot light in my life. It was still there, but instead of being a flame, it was a small light that could either grow or be put out quickly. When our first child, Benson was born, I began to wonder “surely we don't HAVE to go to the mission field.” Then the small doubt kept growing until one day I shouted at Ryan, “I don't want to GO! Please let me have roots, friends for more than a few years, and a home I can live in for a long time!” The disappointment was evident and I felt like I had broken the spirit of a man who was persevering through surgical residency always longing to fulfill the calling in his life.

We spent two years in discussions over our commitment to mission work. We entered into a highly emotional debate, with Ryan heading up the PRO team while I was captain of the CON team. Time was running out. We had to decide and the one thing I had not done was surrender myself to God. I must have misconstrued the Great Commission so many times, “Go into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature.” (Mark 16:15) by thinking, “Go into a world you are not from (a-ha – I am in the USA and I'm from Australia – check!) and preach the gospel (well, Ryan is doing surgery, not preaching) and to every one – well....” surrender Shar....surrender....and ASK GOD!

(our family this past weekend at Zomba plateau)

Had God failed me when I (a self confessed fence sitter) had asked Him if he really wanted me 100%? NO! Had God failed me when I had asked Him to show me a husband worthy of journeying this life with me? NO! Would He fail me in answering the direction for my life now that we were at a crossroads with missions? “I'm not sure I'm ready to hear what God has to say about this.” I concluded and fell asleep.

Awoken abruptly I drew into prayer. I wrestled with God that night, and by the dawning hours there was just one word that was hanging on my heart. I rolled over and woke Ryan up and I told him that we should, “GO.”

The whirlwind of the next year has landed us here at Malamulo Mission Hospital in Malawi, where happiness for our family is found in great measure. There is satisfaction in knowing “that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those, who are the called according to His purpose.” (Romans 8:28). There has also been growth in 'living without' and although in just some small way I felt I could relate to the Church in Acts who “sold their possessions and goods and divided them among all, as anyone had need...so they ate their food with gladness and simplicity of heart, praising God and having favor with people” (Acts 2: 45-47) I had to wonder, so what of the heart ache that accompanies this life of joy and sacrifice?

As we set up a Tarzan style lego tree house, and make believe stories with the figurines, I imagine what life might be like if we were able to enjoy this activity with Benson and Hudson's cousins. My heart aches when I watch them grow up on the other side of the world through Facebook and picasaweb. Then Benson talks about his future, when he will buy a BIG RIG and put all his duplos and bikes in the trailer and go to Grace and Faith's to pick them up to take them to Disneyland.

I see an unknown number register on my cell, and I fumble to answer it always hoping that my sister is calling to 'check up on the day and hear from her nephews'. How I long to 'catch up' in person!

If you have ever skyped then you know the sound of “ba bum ba bum, da da dum da” as I slip on the freshly polished concrete floor eager to see if it's Grandma and Papa or Nai Nai and GaGa who is trying to connect with us. Praying as I slide to the chair, “Please Lord, grant us good internet this morning!”

(Blantyre and Malamulo missionary group October 2010)

Last week I heard Ryan on the phone, talking about lymph nodes, and growths. I thought he was consulting on a patient. His face grew pale and he looked shaken. I asked, “who is that?” and he mouthed, “Juliana.” My heart sank, tears already lodging in my eyes. I just want to hug her, I want to SEE her. This is the thorn of a missionary. Leaving family and friends to serve in a country that is not our own. Not being with our family to share the moments of daily life, the highs and the lows. We are trying to learn how to grieve with our family who is going through trauma while being separated by a mighty ocean.

(Nicole Brown, me, Sue Sawyer, and Susan Woods)

(Benson, Lily, Trevor and Kaiza)

While we feel intense loss because of the distance of both our families, we are often blessed with a new family, our missionary family. Bonds develop quickly and months of friendship feel like years. This month marks a significant amount of transition for Malamulo ex-pat staff and also for my personal circle of mission family. We have already bon voyaged many missionaries that I have connected with, and this week we will farewell the Brown family and Elisa as they head back to the USA.

I feel like a transient. “This world is not my home, I'm just a passing through.”

(Aunty Diane our physical therapist from Brazil)

(Chrislyn Lutz before she left Malamulo for PR to the USA)

(Sabbath hike to Thyolo mountain peak)

(The Woods family)

(Uncle Darryl and Aunty Tiffany Priester with our boys)

(Uncle Ron Mataya who is making frequent trips to Malawi to assist with the new labs)

(Uncle Elde and Aunty Cheri Paladar)

(Malamulo hosted the new lab ceremony for the PEPFAR/CDC project)

(Aunty Elisa Brown and Aunty Dr Cristy Shank)

(Benson, Huddy and Trevor Brown)

(The Brown family)

(Faith, Grace, Benson and Hudson last August)

(Aunty DD and me and Huddy)

(Jules and I, Summer 2010)

With a clear mission that was not entered into lightly, and a great need that abounds here in Malawi, it is evident that Malamulo is our home, for this is where God has placed us. I am thankful that I have committed to service here wholeheartedly, bearing no resentment for my husband who bore the vision first. But, though this place is our earthly home right now, the longings in my heart for my family are strong. The desire to love and share life with them is present and I have to surrender again to God for strength and purpose when I am weak and worn down.

God reveals Himself to me, “I take pleasure in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” (2 Cor 12:10)