A Call to the Nations

I was eighteen years old. A passion for the mission of God had already gripped me for a decade and I couldn’t wait a moment longer to begin my missionary journey. High school was nearly complete and I was sure of what lay ahead: I had felt a call to Africa, so to Africa I would go. 

In the midwestern culture in which I was raised, preparation meant a lack of trust, especially for a bright-eyed young adult ready to change the world. If I couldn’t just buy a plane ticket and spend the rest of my life overseas, that certainly must mean I didn’t have enough faith to let God use my life. Right? Even as I planned my next steps, I was starting to see subtle holes poked in that hypothesis.

Where would I go? Africa is a big continent home to an incredible diversity of cultures. From the Arabesque north to the islands in the southeast, I was presented with almost infinite possibilities. With too little information to narrow my choices, I searched for groups already at work on the continent. Africa Inland Mission (AIM) had “Africa” in the name, so they were the obvious starting point. A few emails later, I was on the phone with a missions mobilizer. 

“Sorry, we don’t send untrained eighteen-year-olds to the field by themselves.”

Apparently, there were certain “competencies” AIM required before enlisting a prospective candidate in their program. I was disappointed but accepted my fate: training would be required. “So much for living off faith,” I thought. Of the options given, a program through Global Frontier Missions was the shortest at five months. I immediately enrolled, excited to finally take a step toward my lifelong dream of becoming a missionary.

August couldn’t arrive soon enough. I was ready. I was determined. With the help of my family, my few belongings were loaded into the back of my mom’s SUV and carried down to Georgia.

My first week of Missionary Training School will forever be among the most difficult weeks of my life. Loneliness hit like a freight train. My ongoing anxiety escalated to a fever pitch, rendering me unable to eat and scarcely able to sleep. Depression bred insecurity and distrust in my mind. I was completely and utterly overwhelmed. Everything was so new and so different. 

I had spent my life in a single rural town, surrounded by familiar faces and comfortable culture. Faced with an open door to a whole new way of life, I was paralyzed. I had walked right into the most challenging season of my life expecting it to be a cakewalk. Those first days and weeks were challenging beyond my own strength to endure, but through the experience, I grew immensely in my ability to trust God and rely on the Body of Christ to lift me up.

Humility is a painful gift to receive. In my pride, I assumed I had no use for the wealth of experience offered by those who served before me. Countless Christ followers have poured out their lives as missionaries, committing themselves to love others for the sake of the Gospel. Yet here I was, reluctant to admit my need to receive and learn from the Body of Christ that Paul so plainly instructed us to rely on.

“The eye cannot say to the hand, “I don’t need you!” And the head cannot say to the feet, “I don’t need you!” …so that there should be no division in the body, but that its parts should have equal concern for each other. If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it.” - 1 Corinthians 12: 21, 25-26

The next few months weren’t easy, but as I relinquished my independence and learned to grow in community, I found myself similarly growing my trust in the Father. Christ is not separate from his Body. The Bridegroom is not independent of his Bride. To commit to the calling God has placed on your heart is to commit to the community He has called you to both serve and learn from.

“As a young man marries a young woman, so will your Builder marry you; as a bridegroom rejoices over his bride, so will your God rejoice over you.” - Isaiah 62:5

I don’t live in Africa yet. As I lived in community with other believers committed to seeking the lost, I discovered passions even stronger than my vague commitment to a far-off land. Had I not slowed down enough to learn and prepare, I never would have uncovered my love for hospitality or passion for effective administration. To be honest, had I followed through on my original plan, I would probably have flown to Africa only to fly back a week later after a continuous panic attack.

God is not in the same hurry we are. There is value in preparation as well as trust. To slow down and learn requires us to admit we are not enough on our own. But that’s the perfect place to meet our humble Savior.

“Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” - Matthew 11:29

Written by: Darrel