Show and Tell...

Remember show-and-tell? Other than recess, that was my favorite part of the school day. Every Friday during my third grade year, I would eagerly await my turn to wow and amaze my classmates with various trinkets that only a group of eight-year-olds would find fascinating.

Looking back now, I realize that they were just an easy audience—anything I brought was more exciting than “reading, writing and arithmetic.” Heck, at that age pocket lint was more exciting.

So what’s with all this reminiscing about my glorious elementary school days? Well, for the first time in my life, I feel a bit like one of those show-and-tell trinkets. Let me explain. My husband and I are missionaries, and we’re home on our very first furlough. We have four months to speak at churches, attend missions conferences and see our family and friends. So it probably comes as no surprise that those who love us most want to parade us around and show us off like they would a new Hummer. (What is with those cars anyway? Can we say American excess exemplified?) Most of the time, their intentions are good and understandable. Our parents are proud of us and want everyone to know what we are doing. Plus we have a couple of pretty good looking kids that they are extremely proud of.

But I have to confess that the spotlight they shine on us makes me uncomfortable. Even the way we get introduced to people is awkward. “This is Mentanna. She is a missionary in France. She tells people about Jesus.” Who gets introduced like that? No one knows how to respond, and the reactions I get are as varied as the products on the cereal aisle at Wal-Mart. (Have I mentioned American excess yet?) My favorites are the stuttering, incoherent replies that mention something about an aunt in Africa that knew a missionary once.Anyway, I digress. People's responses to my occupation aren’t really where I am headed. My point is that people tend to make a big deal out of the fact that I am a missionary. Everywhere I go, I get introduced to pastors, deacons, church matriarchs, ministers and any other Christian who has ever used the word "mission" in a sentence. I don't like being treated like we are the MVPs of the kingdom. Actually, I hate it. You see, I know my heart. I know my struggles. I am in tune with my cesspool. Missionaries aren't the spiritual elite of the church. There is nothing special about what I do. I am not worthy of the attention I receive. (This isn't my attempt at false modesty.) Aren't we all called, gifted and sent among a people to be a display for God's glory? Just because I do it in a different country doesn't make me special; it just makes me different. I don't want any Baptist backslapping for the fact that I tell people about Jesus in a different language. I don't want to hear about sacrifice. I don’t want to be applauded. I just want to talk with other missionaries and hear stories of how they live out their faith among their neighbors, in their own homes or when selling Mary Kay.We are all in this together. We are all called. We are all depraved people in the process of becoming like the one who transforms us and makes us look enough like him to attract a thirsty world. There are no MVPs, no stars. That is the great thing about Christianity. God is the hero, Jesus the MVP, and we are all just groupies. The world has forgotten what it means to be wowed and awestruck. They have seen a lot of pocket lint. Let's make Jesus the focus of our show-and-tell and return wonder to its rightful owner.
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I really enjoyed this article for the simple fact that it points the light back on us. This might sound like the opposite of what the author intended, but I'm talking about our responsibility to spread the gospel. Being a missionary seems like such a lofty calling, for which few are gifted. However, unlike some spiritual gifts which are doled out strategically by our Creator, the Great Commission is meant for all of us who are Believers.

Once again, this article was retrieved from Relevantmagazine.com. I encourage any of you who are willing to be challenged in your faith to visit the site or pick up a magazine.