Often, when I think of being in the service of the Lord, I think of missionaries, pastors, people who dedicate every breathing moment of their lives to spreading the Word to all the world. I never really thought of myself as a “missionary.” I love telling people about the wonderful things of God, about the miracles in my life, about the blessings that He has poured out on me. I love to write about the things He has revealed to me in my daily life, but a missionary, not me.
I’m not the live in the jungle, pitch a tent, plowing my way through dense underbrush kind of person. Though I know that’s not an accurate picture of how all missionaries must live, that’s the image that comes to mind. The closest I could get to that is an afternoon stroll through the woods behind our house. When Daniel was younger, he loved to show me his new discoveries in the “far off lands” in our back yard. It was during one of our intense explorations that my mission field came into focus.
Daniel came running into the house. With great excitement, he shouted, “Mom, come quick! I found a dragon!”
He hardly let me get my shoes tied before he had a tight hold on my hand and was dragging me into the woods, warning me to be careful “because we were entering dragon territory.”
We came to an opening with fallen trees covering the ground. The trees piled on top of each other in a way that made me think of the game pick-up-sticks that I had played as a child. I stood in wonder at the light streaming through trees, the sounds of the squirrels scolding us for disturbing their peace and the birds’ wings gently cutting through the air.
“Get down Mom! You won’t see him if you scare him away!”
We crouched down in the weeds that had grown up around one of the fallen trees. Quietly, we waited. After a moment, Daniel was grabbing my arm.
“Mom! Look! See? There’s her babies!”
I looked over to where Daniel was pointing. On the trunk of one of the fallen trees, there had to be 20 little salamanders settling down in the afternoon sun to bathe in the warmth. They soon became so still that you had to look hard to even see them. It was a most peaceful sight. I felt I could stay there for hours looking at this fantastic world with my son.
After a time, we walked back home together. Daniel reached for my hand and looked up into my face. “Mom?”
“Yes, Daniel?”
“Do you like looking at stuff with me or do you do it to make me leave you alone?”
What kind of question was that? I looked down at him and asked, “What would make you think that?”
“Well, there’s a kid on my bus that I was telling about our walks in the woods. He told me that his mom never goes outside with him and she said that the only reason other moms do is to make them leave them alone.”
“Daniel, I love going exploring with you. I don’t do it for the reason your friend told you. I do it because you’re my son and I love you and I love doing things with you. God gave you to me as a special gift and I want to always take advantage of the time I have with you. I know someday you will be all grown up and I will miss these days.”
He smiled up at me and said, “I love you, too, Mom. I’m glad God picked you to be my Mom.”
I smiled back at him, glad that God had picked me to be his mom, too. That is my mission field, to love my son with everything in me, to teach him right from wrong, to let him see the light of the Lord shining through me, to let him see God’s love through my ways as a parent. Being a mother isn’t always as easy as those precious walks through the woods. There are times that it feels more like a long trek through a dense jungle filled with uncertainty around every bend. But with each step we take down the road of motherhood, we know that God will guide our every decision. He will give us what we need to be for our children what they need us to be. God will equip us for the mission field of parenting, the mission for which He has chosen us.
