Come On, Hit Me

A couple of days ago I was thinking about tomorrow when I will again stand in front of a tank named "Sweet Kemo" and invite it to knock me down. It's irrational, except for the sense that God is answering your prayers and using the kemo to suppress the cancer and give me these very good days in between treatments. I think it's a metaphor for all of us who accept unpleasant disciplines for the sake of future benefits.

Then I read a letter from an SIM missionary that put a new slant on the matter. Her language helper, a student at the Bible college in Africa where she's a teacher, was just returning from a visit to his Muslim home village during school break.
"How was your break?"
"Okay. I got beaten up. But that is the normal life of an evangelist here."
"I'm sorry."
"My sister put her faith in Christ."
"That's wonderful. Did her husband also believe?"
"No, he was angry and kicked her out of the house."
I am humbled! These dear people deliberately step out in front of a tank named "Persecution" for the sake of the Lord Jesus whom they love. Sometimes the family gets tired of beating up the convert and allows him or her back into the community. Sometimes family members themselves are attracted to faith in Christ. Nevertheless, believers who choose to maintain contact with their people must be ready to suffer, even die, for their faith.

Stories like these put sweet kemo into perspective. (As I said the other day, I'm talking nice with the hope that it might treat me better.)

Last evening guests came for dinner. Each one shared a Bible verse, hymn or devotional thought that had been meaningful during the past week. They were all so encouraging! That's a neat way to get to know one another better. My heart is full of warm and wonderful memories. (It's also a good way to ensure that the house looks good during the coming days when I won't feel like doing any work.)

Blessings,
Carol