Fourteen years ago I stood on the stage at my church and shared my call to be a missionary.  I was sixteen years old and had just come back from a very emotional church camp experience.  I was on the mountaintop after being immersed in a solid week of missions, worship, bible study, and Christian fellowship.

Mission work seemed so glamorous then.  I imagined myself flying back and forth from home to Africa, or Nicaragua, or any other third world country.  I had dreams of writing a book, very much like ”Kisses From Katie.”  I pictured myself speaking at conferences in front of hundreds of women. God was going to use me BIG, I just knew it.

Over the years I have attempted to go on various mission trips.  It just never worked out.  More times that I care to admit, I’ve allowed the sneaky voice of the devil to condemn me for this.  He convinced me I was a failure.  That I wasn’t trying hard enough.  That I was disobeying God by not going to Uganda or Honduras or Malaysia, when in truth, it was me who named those places, not God.

Now I know the truth.  I’ve had to actually listen to God and find my mission field.  And it’s taken me years to do so. (I’m not always the fastest learner–I’m sure God shakes his head at me daily.)  I’m not called to serve overseas in a third world country or even in the slums of some big US city.  At least, not right now.  My mission field is here, right were I am.

It’s the school where I teach.

It’s the neighborhood that I live in.

It’s the church that I attend.

It’s my kids, my family, my friends.

I’m called to be a light for Christ right here where I am.

To be a witness for Him, a backbone for other Christians when they need help standing tall.

To be His hands and feet in the lower income neighborhood down the street.

To be a leader, a comforter, a mentor.

And this was His plan for me all along.

I think we often leave the witnessing and the loving-like-Jesus to those people who are “real” missionaries when, in reality, we are all missionaries.  We just serve on a different mission field.  And I’ve found mine.  Where’s yours?