I am new to the whole missionary thing.  I am the first missionary in my family; the
first missionary of my close friends. 
Before coming to Gainesville, I was the only missionary I ever really knew. 

I've read stories. 
I've seen videos.  I've heard missionaries
speak at church before. 

Just like you can't really understand what it's like to be a
parent until hold your own child in your arms - I didn't really get it; I
couldn't get it until I lived it.

A few things strike me as I walk in these "missionary" shoes
a bit. 

One; I didn't get any training.  Most missionaries go through some training
before being sent out.  I didn't.  I just kind of jumped in.  I'm 93% glad that I didn't go through
training.  There is only 7% of me that
wishes I was better prepared. 

Two; the definition of "missionary" is changing, I
think.  The traditional boundaries of
what a missionary is (and isn't) are being shifted.  I'm 100% glad about that.  Well, maybe only 99% glad, the other percent
is simply because I'm uncomfortable in ambiguity. 

Three; this is hard. 
I'm being broken continually.  Just
when I think I'm getting in the groove, life comes to disrupt
it.  Crazy me, but I guess I thought that
once I made the leap to full-time missions work, it meant I had earned the
"now-I-got-it-together" badge.  Like
maybe I had passed a hurdle of brokenness that I would never again have to
revisit.      

Nope. 

It means that I really, really, R*E*A*L*L*Y have to depend
on God to show up a lot more often.  

Being a missionary gives me a whole new appreciation for the
sink or swim concept. 

I used to be very afraid of sinking.  Swimming - goooood.  Sinking - baaaaaad.  What I'm finding is that when I'm swimming,
it is really good.  God is there.  And those moments are magnificent. 

Yet, when I'm treading water and barely hanging on, it's
good too.  It's in those moments I see
that God is with me.