The Hiker - The Missionary

In the barren prairie, the hiker huddles down. The cold northerly sweeps over him, stinging his face and numbing his fingers. The whistle of the wind is deafening. The hiker hugs his knees to his chest, yearning for warmth.

He doesn't move. The sky is orange with dirt. His teeth are grainy, his eyes sooty. he thinks of quitting. Going home. Home to the mountains.

"Ahh. The mountains." The spirit that moved him in the mountains seems so far away. For a moment his mind wanders back to his homeland. Green country. Mountain trails. Fresh water. Hikers hiking on well-marked trails. No surprises, few fears, rich companionship.
One day, while on a brisk hike, he had stopped to look out from the mountains across the neighboring desert. He felt strangely pulled to the sweeping barrenness that lay before him.

The next day he paused again. And the next, and the next. "Shouldn't someone go there? Shouldn't someone try to take life to the desert?" Slowly the flicker in his heart became a flame.

Many agreed that someone should go, but no one volunteered. Uncharted land, fearful storms, loneliness.

But the hiker, spurred by the enthusiasm of others, determined to go. After careful preparation, he set out alone. With the cheers of his friends behind him, he descended the grassy highlands and entered the desolate wilderness.

The first few days his steps were springy and his eye was keen. He yearned to do his part to bring life to the desert. Then came the heat. The scorpions. The monotony. The snakes. Slowly, the fire diminished. And now...the storm. The endless roar of the wind. The relentless, cursed cold.

"I don't know ho much more I can take!!!!!!"

Weary and beaten, the hiker considers going back. "At least I got this far." Knees tucked underhim, head bowed, almost touching the ground. "Will it ever stop?"

Grimly he laughs at the irony of the situation. "Some hiker. Too tired to go on, yet too ashamed to go home." Deep, deep is the struggle. No longer can he hear the voices of friends. Long gone is the romance of his mission. No longer does he float on the fancifulness of a dream.

"Maybe someone else should do this. I'm too young, too inexperienced." The winds of discouragement and fear whip at his fire, exhausting what is left of the flame. But the coals remain, hidden and hot.

The hiker, now almost the storm's victim, looks one last ime for the fire. (Is there any great challenge than that of stirring a spirit while in the clutches of defeat?) Yearning and clawing, the tempation to quit is gradually overcome by the urge to go on. Blowing on the coals, the hiker once again hears the call to the desert. Though faint, the call is clear.

With all the strength he can summon, the hiker rises to his feet, bows his head, and takes his first step into the wind.

On the Anvil- Max Lucado

I don't think I've ever read something that identifies so clearly with the walk of a missionary. There are days that are awesome and exciting to watch God working in the lives of the people where you've been transplanted. And then there are other days, periods of time, when the mere call is what keeps you. Oh, we've questioned. We've questioned ourselves and we've questioned God. We've questioned people. We've asked for confirmations. And He is always so faithful to answer! How long will we be here? I don't know! But I do know that right now, this is the call and each day, although it may be difficult and lonely and not very exciting, is another day to count as a privelege and honor to serve Him. We praise Him in the storms. And we praise Him for the eternal fruit He's allowed us to witness. If it were all just for one, it would be worth it. This month marks five years we've served in Honduras, and He has been gracious to let us witness many transformations, especially my own.

"And we all, with unveiled face, beholding teh glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit. Therefore, having this ministry by the mercy of God, we do not lose heart."

2 Corinthians 3:18-4:1