¼ OF A CENTURY.

I thought that by now I would have had a Master’s degree in English and Spanish. I would have published a book, would have been known by the world as an artist, and would have been a decent singer. All of these things were my childhood dreams. I grew up and these dreams were still there.  I am now twenty-five years old and none of these things have been accomplished. What happened?

My father warned me “mija, don’t get married at 23. Wait till you’re 25 because then you will know what you want to do for the rest of your life”. A fellow co-worker of mine told me almost the same thing, “when you are twenty-five, everything will clear up; you will know what you want to do for the rest of your life”. Sorry father, sorry friend; I beg to differ. I still do not know entirely what I want to do for the rest of my life, but I do know one thing: Jesus. Jesus still remains as the one thing I know I will do for the rest of my life. In fact, it will be the very someone whom my whole life will revolve around.

One thing I have learned in my 25 years is that I have learned to love people the way they are. I am no better or less than the person standing right next to me.  Not too long ago I was observing a father and a son. It was the son’s birthday and in his mind the world was grand. The father had made this great feast to celebrate his son’s 3 years of age. The three year old would laugh and then, like a switch, get mad. You see, he had just woken up from a nap. He would smile when he saw something he liked,( like candy or cake)but once he saw that the party needed attention as well he would frown, get mad, would even let out a whimper once in a while. He would do this while clinging to his father’s shirt, never letting go as if afraid of the party. His father, busy cooking for the feast would stop what he was doing, look down, and hug his wanting three year old. “What’s wrong?” he would ask. “This party is for you, look at this…look at that? Wow!” And the three year old son would smile all over again. The father was the only one who could pave the way for the son to see what was really happening. It was a party for him. He was celebrating three years of life.

God was showing me how selfish I could be at times. I thought about the times I would rant about what was happening around me. God I see this but I need your attention. God, I want the candy, but can you please pick me up so I can get some more? I want cake….but why can’t I have it now? And God looks down on me, while he is preparing my home and the precious meal I will have with Him one day, and tells me “Hey, will you look at that?” my eyes go from Him to the people. “Wow, look here, isn’t that awesome?” And I see the people who are ready to come to this party, who are celebrating with me. “Yes, yes I do God!”  And then he turns me around to another group of people, who are not invited, and asks me, “wouldn’t it be awesome if they could come to?”  I see the heart of my Father. I see the Lost. The broken. I want them to come too, but how will they know if no one ever tells them?  Who will go, if I don’t go and tell them? Today I celebrate my life wanting for those who are forgotten, fatherless, and friendless to come to my party. Come dine with me, come taste my Father’s Food. Come and Taste and see how Good He is. I am not the only one who needs to come to this party. I celebrate life, but God celebrates all of life. He celebrates eternal Life in Him.

Missionary: A person who leaves their family for a short period of time so that others can be with family for eternity.

Photograph by David Anderson