Dear Quiet Missionary,
I’m writing you this letter because I see you. I was you. And I’ve learned some things since getting home that I wish I knew while I was wearing the name tag.
You’ve not only heard the call to serve, but you’ve answered. That takes a lot of courage. You’ll be stepping out of your comfort zone in a way that you never have before. It’s a little intimidating, sure, but you’re excited too. After all, you’ve heard about all the miracles and know the Lord will support you.
And you’re not wrong. You may not be questioning the Lord.
But you might be questioning yourself.
You want to shout from the rooftops like everyone else. To share the love and goodness of the gospel of Christ.
But shouting doesn’t come easily.
Maybe you want to talk to everyone you see. You really do. You love them and know they need this. But you freeze against every ounce of willpower you have. Words don’t come to mind, and your companion does all the talking again.
Dear quiet missionary, this letter is for you.
The Lord wants you, too. He needs you. All of you.
Not just another body in the field. Not just a second person so your companion can preach and work miracles. He needs you specifically.
All of you.
Your talents—even if they don’t include speaking to a crowd.
Your personality—even if it isn’t extroverted.
Your nature—even if it’s not in your nature to shout.
The Lord needs you anyway.
Because, dear quiet missionary, He sees what you don’t.
He sees the longing and the devotion. He sees the deep pondering and extensive preparation.
Shy missionary, the fact that you have weaknesses is something to bring you closer to Christ, not something to be ashamed of. Weakness is not an indication of a lack of faith. Neither is your ease with approaching people on the streets. Or giving the perfect door approach. Or leading an exciting district council. Neither is the volume of your voice.
Remember, the Spirit speaks with a still, small voice too.
You have more to offer than you know. An observant companion, who meets a friend’s needs. A ponderer who fine-tunes your spiritual ear. A listener who can bear the burdens of those you teach. A trainer, who does your best work one-on-one. A leader who can notice and empathize with others who are struggling too. A musician who bears testimony in unique ways. An artist who leaves your testimony to be seen by hundreds. A reader who obtains great treasures of spiritual knowledge. A prayer who has powerful communication with the Father. A teacher who can read people and connect them to Christ.
Dear quiet missionary, don’t focus on everyone else’s description of what you should be. Including your own.
Focus on Christ. Let Him use you, and you will find Him changing and preparing you to do things you didn’t think you could. Keep trying. Keep opening your mouth. Keep being brave.
You are not alone. Jesus knows how you feel. He walks with you. And He can teach you how to serve Him in a way that no one else can.
Because dear quiet missionary, you don’t even know the power you have.
Sincerely,
A Quiet R.M.
