And Jesus answered and said, Verily I say unto you, There is no man that hath left house, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my sake, and the gospel’s, but he shall receive an hundredfold now in this time, houses, and brethren, and sisters, and mothers, and children, and lands, with persecutions; and in the world to come eternal life. (Mark 10:29-30)
Waving goodbye as the child of your body walks toward the security gate at the airport or gets into the van with the church group or takes some other avenue of departure on a missions trip is a very difficult thing for a mother. The security system in her maternal soul (that is mysteriously and irrevocably launched the day of the child’s birth) is pinging – “Danger! Something could happen. You might never see him or her again.” God’s grace and the fear of looking like a weeping idiot keeps us from refusing to let them go. But, inside, we feel the beginning of terror.
Mothers have been letting children go since, well, the beginning, I guess. I’m not sure how this came to Eve; there weren’t many places for her sons to go, at least inhabited places. But, being boys, I’m sure they went. And children have been leaving the nest ever since. The difference today is that they can go very far away.
But, when your son or daughter signs up to help the church or the conference or the youth group on a missions trip, there’s one big thing to remember – this is ministry. It’s not a vacation or a glamor jaunt or a business venture. It’s an offering to God of time and talent to serve His church in another country and to evangelize the people He loves.
The Great Commission is being fulfilled in our children when we let them go on a missions trip. Elisabeth Elliot’s mother, who raised six children of whom five were overseas missionaries, recalled that she returned from a Christian conference with a determination to do as one of the speakers suggested and “Pray ye the Lord of the harvest that He will send forth laborers into HIs harvest field!” Fine! OK! I’d pray that! Little did I know what it would cost me! One day as I was praying that prayer a disturbing thought entered my mind. ‘Whose children are you going to pray Him to send?’ I shied away from the implications I could see were coming. It was some time before I could bring myself to pray in a very feeble way that He would send MY children into His field!” (The Shaping of a Christian Family, Revell, 232.)
And all of us mothers could say a hearty “amen.” It’s so easy to dress up the wee one in white and stand before the congregation and pastor and “give our baby to the Lord.” But so much more difficult to send that beloved one as a teen out the door to fulfill that gift!
Yet, this is our duty. This is our sacred worship. This is our delight. Hannah, bringing her precious son to do duty in the temple with Eli, an old priest with a terrible parenting record, realized that she had “lent him to the Lord; as long as he liveth he shall be lent to the Lord.” (1 Samuel 1:28) Can we do less?
The old song “O Zion, Haste” has fallen out of favor with the modern church hymnal but bears a powerful message for those of us bringing our own children to His altar.
Give of thy sons to bear the message glorious;
Give of thy wealth to speed them on their way;
Pour out thy soul for them in prayer victorious;
And all thou spendest Jesus will repay. (Mary Thompson)
We come with our best – our flesh and blood. The altar is this chance to serve, this trip, this mission. And if we trust and truly love this Lord for whom we make such an extravagant claim, we can no more fear for them in His hands there than in His hands here. It is, all of it, His world. And He holds it, as the little child’s song we taught them long ago, and them in those Hands.
