Ministry

My dad has been a part of Samaritan's Purse for years now, and through this medical missions group, he's had multiple opportunities to travel the globe, helping others with free dentistry and passing out shoe boxes filled with toys and necessities poor families need. This week he goes to Moldova, one of the poorest countries in Eastern Europe. There, people will line up to see him, and he'll have days where he works on one person after another for the entire day. He'll visit orphanages, and endure uncomfortable surroundings for the sake of the gospel.

Meanwhile, back at home, my mom will spend her weekend going back and forth from my 90 year old grandmother's house, to check on her, and make sure that she's still alive, that she hasn't fallen, that she's had something to eat. She'll check her diapers, her sheets, she'll clean up her messes. She'll try to engage her in conversation, but she'll only receive a blank stare for her efforts.

In 2 weeks, my dad will return, and the church will ask him to share about his adventures. He'll be able to tell his patients and his friends amazing stories of miraculous testimonies and experiences. People will praise him and be impressed by his adventures. Nobody will ask my mom to share about the fact that she's unable to travel even for a weekend to see me because she has to stay close to my grandma. Nobody will marvel at her daily trek 5 minutes from her home to check in on her aging mother. She's the unsung hero.

I'm grateful that my dad has the opportunities he has to use his gifts and talents and that he knows many "important" people in the Christian world that he's worked for and worked with to facilitate great things for the Lord. But, I'm also grateful for my mom and her testimony to me. She's doing a thankless job right now, one that may only last a few more weeks, or may stretch on for years to come. As mother's sometimes, we long for travel, for adventure, for a break in the monotony of the daily service for our children. We long to make speeches and write books, and have our voices heard. We long to be recognized and praised and thanked. But our ministry is right here, right now, at home - scrubbing floors, changing diapers, washing dishes. We probably won't be asked to share about our adventures in suburbia in front of our churches next Sunday, but we're on just as much of a mission as my dad is this week in Moldova, and my mom is back in Visalia.

Let us not forget that.