How Does Africa Sound, Mother?
Today’s blog was written by my husband’s grandmother, probably sometime in the early 1960’s. Her eldest daughter, Miriam, was contemplating her future and feeling the call of the Lord to the mission field. As it turned out, Miriam spent her life ministering to the Macushi Tribe of Brazil, rather than going to Africa. But no matter where God calls our children to serve Him, the wrestling and eventual submission of all mothers must be the same. I pray that this will be a blessing to you, as it has been to me.
How Does Africa Sound to You, Mother?
By Maude Abbott
“How does Africa sound to you, Mother?” Startled momentarily, I looked up from the letter I had just opened. How DID Africa sound to me? I honestly tried to face the question put to me by my own “little girl.” What a different question it seemed from THIS viewpoint.
How many times had I sat in services and listened to missionary speakers, thrilling to their experiences, my heart humbled at the realization of their sacrifices made in order to carry the gospel to “those who have never heard.” But now! Face to face with the issue brought so close to me, I realized that I MUST be honest with her, with myself, and with God!
Just how did Africa sound to me? The Holy Spirit, probing, brought to mind a prayer on my lips almost immediately after hearing the doctor’s words, “You have a baby daughter!” With a grateful heart the prayer welled up, “She’s yours, Lord! Thank You for giving her into my keeping. Whatever You have in mind for her, dear Lord, just lead me that I may train her for it.” I meant it then; I mean it now, Lord.
“How does Africa sound to you, Mother?” It seemed ALWAYS that she wanted to be a nurse. Dolls, the cat, little brother…the patients were endless. Her goal seemed reached when, after high school graduation, I accompanied her to the hospital where she chose to train.
From this vantage point, I know now it was not HER choosing, but HIS leading.
In filling out her application, the memory of an earlier experience in which she had answered the Lord’s call to dedicate her life for missions, she was prompted to include this as her goal: a missionary nurse.
The busy years that followed, the friendships, the various opportunities that beckoned when she would get that coveted R.N., somewhat dimmed this earlier vision at times, but the Lord in His infinite wisdom allowed a tragic occurrence during training to bring her up short…turning her thoughts God-ward once more. (Two of her nurse-friends were killed in an automobile accident while on their way to the nurse’s graduation ceremony.)
Enrollment in Bible School the following year came about by the deep realization of a real need to know, really know, God’s Word, in order to follow His will. I was often stirred in the reading of her letters…amid the humorous anecdotes of life in the dorm, plus the interesting cases in the hospital where she nursed in order to pay her way through school, to find such allusions to the Lord’s leading her into deeper spiritual experiences through study of the Word.
Nursing at Christian camps during her summers in Maine (where she attended school), brought new experiences in her dealing with boys and girls, leading them to know Christ even while bandaging scraped knees, administering aspirin for fever and colds, soothing homesickness, and the Lord brought out in her a concern and tenderness, missing at times in hospital routine. In these and many, many incidents and experiences, I had followed in her letters the leading of the Lord throughout those years.
Yet, here I sat, stunned by those words, “How does Africa sound to you, Mother?” Yes, I needed to settle then and there how Africa…or India, or Asia, or South America, or the Islands of the Sea…sounded to me as a place of service for my girl. And then the Lord brought to mind the years of separation…nurses’ training, schools, camps…just short intervals of seeing her, just letters for communication…with little REAL fellowship that the closeness of having her nearby would bring.
“I love her so, Lord!” Sometimes I’ve thought how nice it would be should she settle down somewhere in visiting distance and raise a family for me to see. But what do I know about love, compared to YOURS for her? But I AM her mother, Lord; I folded that little one to my breast and watched her grow, tenderly watching over her, nursing her through childish illnesses, soothing bumps and bruises, helping her weather the storms of adolescence, and now that she is just blossoming into beautiful young womanhood…!”
“But I died for her!” He softly answered. “AND for thee,” He reminded gently. “Would I ask her life to serve ME anywhere without protection, provision, and strength for one that I love that much?” He went on, “Could she be happier anywhere other than in the place of MY CHOICE?”
These questions and many more reminders raced through my mind and into my heart as the Spirit of God, ever so tenderly dealt with an understandable human mother’s heart. I was humbled by such love as He unfolded before me. "But Lord, how do I know that she will not face grave danger, even death? Some have had to pay such a price!”
“You don’t know…you must TRUST!” was the piercing answer. “Never one of My own laid down his life for MY sake in vain…was it in vain that I laid down MY life for thee?”
My heart broke…I wept! He had won! Could I dare to think of withholding ANYTHING or ANYONE, regardless of how dear, from my Savior Who so willingly shed His own blood that I might live?
My daughter! God’s Son! Yes, my daughter, but His child…loaned to me by His grace, to teach small hands to serve Him, small heart to love Him and worship Him, that He might one day speak through her lips, work through her hands, love through her heart, to make His love known to “those other sheep, not of this fold.”
And then…He graciously drew back the veil from my eyes. And lo! I wasn’t giving Him my daughter; I wasn’t sacrificing anything that He might use her. No! He, the infinite God, was bestowing on me His wondrous grace, in bestowing upon her - His child! My daughter! The life I helped to form! - the crown of rejoicing for bearing the precious seed!