Afraid - Of What?

A recent reflection I wrote for a Missions (Ironic?) class I have to finish before I receive my diploma; I had just finished a book on Moody Alumni martyrs.

It was strange how much I resonated with the martyr’s when I read each of their stories. As I read the prayers they lifted up and wrote down, the poems, their actions, the tough decisions they had to make and the risky situations they put themselves in, my heart was made happy because I felt like I had found my people. As I was reading Betty Stam’s story, a poem was quoted that had me in tears—here is a small portion:

Afraid—of what?
To feel the spirit’s glad release?
To pass from pain to perfect peace,
The strife and strain of life to cease?
Afraid—of that?
E.H. Hamilton

Shots have been fired near to us recently, and it had my family worried. I responded that I was not afraid, the Holy Spirit is near to us during these times, and I am at rest with my Savior. My family could not understand, and thought I was being rash, thought that I must be more careful. Now, I will not purposely have harm come upon me, but living where we live, there is danger. The shots are the least dangerous in my mind—it is the unknown of opening up our home, and loving on people who have not been loved well that is scary; scary and thrilling, all at once.

I have already put myself in harms way by living here. Many children and families and vulnerable people live in my neighborhood; if they can live here, so can I. When I say that I resonate and feel closely connected with martyr’s it is not because I crave death, especially one that will be noticed and given glory to; I do not dream of being a martyr for fame, and neither did these men and women. They had families and friends and community that they didn’t want to leave. What I do understand is the love they had for Jesus; I love Him, and cannot wait to gain Him when I fall asleep here.

Asking a friend what they thought today, they said they were not afraid of death, either, but afraid of what they hadn’t accomplished here. Funny, I hadn’t thought of that at all. I think it is because I’m terrified to think that God has anything big or new planned for me. I won’t let myself think that. Content to keep my wings clipped when I have yearned to fly my whole life—I know I will finally spread my wings when I come home to my King, my Bridegroom. While I am here, His mission is mine, His purposes are mine, and I will do my best to bring the Kingdom to earth. Please, oh, please don’t tell me my name will be in a book, or as a plenary speaker, or as the founder of anything; that is where I see danger; that is what scares me. That others may increase, and I may decrease, especially the Name above all Names.