My identity, the core of who I am, should not come from my desire to do mission work. I am a sinner justified by God through Christ, now adopted as a true son, and given the Holy Spirit as a deposit in part which one day I will experience in full. My home is no longer here, I belong the King and await a coming glorious kingdom. That’s who I am.
I think the title of missionary sounds cool. Let’s be honest, it’s like Bull Fighter or Jet Fighter Pilot (at least to me it sounds like that, but I have been known to dabble in fits of grandiosity). You are the person who is on the “front lines” going to exotic locals like a Bible totting James Bond.
None of that I think is even remotely true, but nonetheless it does sound nice when I consider myself in the profession of missionary. But the good news of the gospel is that I am no longer defined by that. My job isn’t what is important – its who I am called by, Jesus the Christ, my Redeemer and Savior.
Now if I could only remember this… everday.