It was Sunday afternoon.
Michele sat at the Starbucks in the downtown area of River Oaks, waiting for her father to join her. He had just texted, saying he was on the way. She hadn’t slept well last night and was fairly distracted throughout the service that morning.
Would you come to Africa with me?
That moment and that question kept replaying in her mind. She definitely hadn’t seen it coming. She hadn’t said an outright no to Allan, though she was tempted to. She was still functioning under the influence of that passage in Philippians 2, the one about looking out for the interests of others. Yesterday, it had already stretched her in a big way when she had encouraged Allan to take Ray’s place on the Africa trip. She had even conceded to allowing him to use the money from their baby fund.
Wasn’t that being stretched enough? Go to Africa? With Allan?
God had even set things up so that Allan could go and they could keep their baby fund intact. Wasn’t there some kind of limit to this idea of looking out for the interests of others? There had to be. Otherwise, Christians would wind up becoming doormats, living their entire lives at everyone else’s beck and call.
For the longest time after Allan had asked her the question, Michele had just stood there staring back at him, unsure how to respond. He had bailed her out, quickly taking it back, saying he never should have put her on the spot like that. The idea had just come to him that moment. But she didn’t want to close the door on it completely, not without giving it some thought or at least asking for God’s guidance. Besides, she genuinely felt sorry for Allan and hated the thought of him facing this situation all alone.
They had agreed to pray about it over the next twenty-four hours. Allan had checked the ticket situation on his laptop. There were still a few seats left on all three of the connecting flights, enough room for both of them to go. Allan was excited by this news. As he’d researched it, Michele had stood behind him, secretly hoping there might only be one seat left, closing the door on the matter for good.
“Deep in thought?”
Michele looked up at her father standing there holding his coffee cup.
“I walked in, saw you sitting over here staring out the window. It was going to be my treat, but I see you’ve already got yours.” He was holding a big oatmeal raisin cookie. Noticing her eyes on it, he said, “Want me to get you one?”
“No thanks, Dad. I’m still a little full from lunch.”
He sat across from her. “So what’s up? It’s been awhile since you and I did something like this, just the two of us.”
“I know. I’ve got a big decision to make. Well, Allan and I do. But he doesn’t want to pressure me into something, which I appreciate. But it means I’m kind of on my own. It’s such a big decision, and we don’t have a lot of time. I told Allan I would give him my answer this evening. I prayed about it last night but didn’t seem to get anywhere. When I woke up this morning, I had a strong feeling I should bounce these ideas off you.”
“Okay. Why don’t you fill me in a little bit? I talked to your mother on the way home from church, and she didn’t have any idea what this could be about.”
“That’s because all this just came about yesterday afternoon.” She took a soothing sip of her latte. “We really haven’t had a chance to talk to anyone yet.”
She spent the next fifteen minutes giving him an update while he ate his cookie. As she did, she was grateful for how much her father had changed in the last year or two compared to the man she had known growing up. He was such a good listener now, and he really looked in her eyes as she talked. When she was through, she really wanted to hear what he had to say.
His first words were, “So sorry to hear about Ray. That’s terrible. They announced it this morning in church, but I didn’t know all the details. Do they know how long he’s going to be in the hospital?”
“At least a few more days, but we’re not sure.”
“You could tell he was a little nervous,” her father said, “but I thought Allan did a good job this morning on the announcement about the orphanage. That’s some great news. He didn’t say anything about taking Ray’s place, though, on this trip. Are they keeping that quiet for some reason?”
“I think he just forgot,” she said. “He went over his notes with me this morning, so I know he intended to share it. He was even supposed to ask the church to pray.”
“Well, he still did a good job. I know he doesn’t like talking to a crowd. And I’m proud of you too, Michele. That shows real maturity, setting aside something you deeply care about like that. And you did it before you even knew the church was paying for the trip.”
“But now we’ll be paying for it anyway, if I go with him.”
“That’s true.”
“So, I need you to tell me what to do.”
“Michele, I can’t do that.”
“Why can’t you? I’m giving you permission.”
Her dad smiled. “Can I ask you a few questions?”
“I guess.”
“Do you know what your main hesitation is, what’s keeping you from saying yes? I know Allan’s been hinting at you going on one of these trips for quite a while. Is it the money?”
She sat back in her chair. “I don’t think so. It may be a part of it. But I really was willing to spend it when I thought we were sending him. And there’s a part of me that wants to go. Well, that’s not exactly true. I don’t want to go. But I don’t want Allan to have to go alone, either.”
“Do you think it’s fear? It’s not something you’ve ever done before.”
“I’m sure that’s part of it. Maybe a big part. Most of the places we’ve been to together have been nice places. Vacation trips. I’ve seen the pictures and videos Allan brings back from Africa. Korah is not a nice place. Even by African standards. This place really got to him, more than all the other locations he’s been to . . . combined. I couldn’t get the stink out of his clothes. If he had a hard time there, what’s it going to do to me?” She sighed. “I’m just not wired like Allan. For some reason, I can’t seem to take seeing people in horrendous suffering. Especially children. It makes me feel so helpless and depressed.”
“And maybe a little guilty?” her father said.
“Yeah, some of that too, I’m sure.”
“That’s perfectly normal, Michele. I think most Christians in America feel the same way about missions, especially when extreme poverty is involved. We have so much, and they have so little. And we don’t understand why. The emotions can get overwhelming pretty quick. They do for me when I’m exposed to the situation, and I’ve never actually been there. I know you’ve been able to avoid most of this so far. Except for a week or two after Allan gets back from one of these trips. But maybe God wants to change that.”
“You mean . . . change me?”
“Maybe. I don’t know what he has in mind here, but it does seem like he’s orchestrating things in this direction. Definitely seems to be stretching you. But if it is God, he will give you grace for it. This far away, it may seem like too much for you to deal with. But if he wants you there, with Allan, God will give you plenty of grace to make it work. You’ll see. I think it will be like Peter walking on water. He couldn’t tell what it would really be like as long as he was sitting in that boat.”
But Michele liked being in the boat. She was definitely an in-the-boat kind of Christian. “The other eleven disciples never walked on water.”
“That’s true.”
They both sipped their coffee, looked at each other.
“The question is,” her father said, “what is God calling you to?” He smiled. “I don’t know if this will help, but for some reason, I just had a flashback of you and Tom on Christmas morning, before Doug was born. You know how kids look forward to Christmas? They’re totally focused on all the toys and presents they’re going to get. That’s what Christmas is all about. But for the parents, it’s different. They might get a present or two, but they’re not focused on what they’re getting that day. For them, their joy is the look on their kids’ faces, their reactions to what they’re getting. You know that saying, it is more blessed to give than to receive? Jesus said that. What he’s saying is that the happiest person is the one giving the gift, not the one receiving it. The one giving is the one who truly gets blessed.”
It dawned on her that this was the joy she saw in Allan about Africa and these mission trips. He never thought about the money he spent, or the vacation time he lost, or the hopeless situations he was forced to leave behind when he came back to the States. Because he wasn’t going on these trips to get something but to give. He gave his heart away. And in the giving, God blessed him so much, Allan immediately wanted to do it all over again.
“I want to experience that,” she said.
“You mean . . . you’ll go with him?”
“I think I will.”
“I think that’s a good decision,” her dad said. “And I predict that by the time you return home, you’ll have no regrets on any of the money you spent. The reward you will feel deep inside will be like a gift from God, a much bigger prize than anything you could possibly lose.”
She reached her hand across the table and squeezed his. “Thank you, Dad.”