The 1970s was a busy decade for us. We graduated from college and got married. Vic finished medical school and completed his family practice residency. I was hired for my first teaching position. We had two children. And we went through the process of being appointed as international missionaries.
This involved lots of paperwork, meetings with missionary candidate consultants, research, and prayer about which country would be our new home. When we first contacted the missionary sending agency, Vic was a medical school student and I was teaching first grade at a small Christian school. We didn't have any children yet. The possibility of moving to a different country seemed like a wonderful opportunity for an adventure in faith.
Then we had our first child. Gazing into the sweet tiny face of our beautiful baby girl, I suddenly had a lot of specific questions related to safety and health conditions in the countries we were considering.
This involved lots of paperwork, meetings with missionary candidate consultants, research, and prayer about which country would be our new home. When we first contacted the missionary sending agency, Vic was a medical school student and I was teaching first grade at a small Christian school. We didn't have any children yet. The possibility of moving to a different country seemed like a wonderful opportunity for an adventure in faith.
Then we had our first child. Gazing into the sweet tiny face of our beautiful baby girl, I suddenly had a lot of specific questions related to safety and health conditions in the countries we were considering.
Vic finished his residency, we were appointed as missionaries, and we went to seminary where we had our second child, a cute and lively sweet baby boy. By then, the thought of moving with two young children to an unknown land struck me as more of a reckless idea than an adventure in faith.
Despite my reservations, God continued to confirm that this was his plan for us. And since I was worried about safety issues, of course we felt a persistent holy nudge to go to Colombia - in the middle of the Pablo Escobar drug war years, no less. Who says God doesn't have a sense of humor?
By the time we went to Georgia for four months of missionary orientation in preparation for the big move, our children were one and three. I had a growing list of questions and concerns. One week, the area director for our region of South America came to the orientation campus to spend time with all of the appointees preparing to serve in one of the countries under his jurisdiction.
By the time we went to Georgia for four months of missionary orientation in preparation for the big move, our children were one and three. I had a growing list of questions and concerns. One week, the area director for our region of South America came to the orientation campus to spend time with all of the appointees preparing to serve in one of the countries under his jurisdiction.
J. Bryan "Breezy" Brasington and his wife, Vickey, were such wonderful, encouraging, kind, optimistic mentors for new missionary families. We are blessed that we had the privilege of knowing them both. Breezy always had a story to share, a smile on his face, and wise words for just about any situation.
When we had our scheduled time with him, I pulled out my list of questions and fears. I'll never forget something Breezy said during our conversation, "You don't need to worry too much. Few things are fatal." He was not discounting my concerns, and he was certainly not making light of people who face terminal illnesses and death. Rather, he was reminding me to put things into the proper perspective. He spent the afternoon sharing humorous missionary tales, reassuring us, encouraging us to trust God, and reminding us that most of the time things are not quite as awful as we imagine they might be.
During our years of missionary service, "Few things are fatal" became our motto. When we didn't have running water for a week, the electricity stayed off for days, the washer broke down, our car was stolen at gunpoint, a bomb went off a block from our house, our son's kindergarten class was sent home for the day so the janitorial staff could get rid of the tarantulas that had invaded the classroom, our living room flooded in the middle of a children's Bible class, a rooster ran through the church, and it was so hot we almost passed out decorating the Christmas tree - we would invariably look at each other, laugh, and say, "Oh, well. Few things are fatal." Those six years in Colombia gave us the joy of working alongside our Colombian brothers and sisters in Christ, connected us to an extended missionary family we still cherish, changed our ideas about what is important in life, taught us the value of diversity and inclusion, helped us recognize God is present in spaces far beyond our little corner of the planet. (And our children got to have some really interesting pets.)
When we had our scheduled time with him, I pulled out my list of questions and fears. I'll never forget something Breezy said during our conversation, "You don't need to worry too much. Few things are fatal." He was not discounting my concerns, and he was certainly not making light of people who face terminal illnesses and death. Rather, he was reminding me to put things into the proper perspective. He spent the afternoon sharing humorous missionary tales, reassuring us, encouraging us to trust God, and reminding us that most of the time things are not quite as awful as we imagine they might be.
During our years of missionary service, "Few things are fatal" became our motto. When we didn't have running water for a week, the electricity stayed off for days, the washer broke down, our car was stolen at gunpoint, a bomb went off a block from our house, our son's kindergarten class was sent home for the day so the janitorial staff could get rid of the tarantulas that had invaded the classroom, our living room flooded in the middle of a children's Bible class, a rooster ran through the church, and it was so hot we almost passed out decorating the Christmas tree - we would invariably look at each other, laugh, and say, "Oh, well. Few things are fatal." Those six years in Colombia gave us the joy of working alongside our Colombian brothers and sisters in Christ, connected us to an extended missionary family we still cherish, changed our ideas about what is important in life, taught us the value of diversity and inclusion, helped us recognize God is present in spaces far beyond our little corner of the planet. (And our children got to have some really interesting pets.)
After we returned to the states, these wise words continued to provide clarity on the truly important things in life. We are blessed with family and friends who love us, a life more often filled with joy than sorrow, and a loving God who is present with us in all the moments of our days. We have no reason to complain even when we are sick, relationships change, difficult people discourage us, the dishwasher quits working during Thanksgiving dinner, a tree falls on the roof, a deer jumps in front of the car, we don't get our way, customer service techs drive us nuts, and life just seems hard. There is always something to be grateful for, and besides, "Few things are fatal."
One day fatal will become my reality in the form of an accident or an illness that is not survivable. But even then, when death comes, it will only be to call me home. For death is never truly fatal for those who believe in Jesus. It is just a new beginning in a new place where our perspective will be forever changed to everlasting life and unending joy.
One day fatal will become my reality in the form of an accident or an illness that is not survivable. But even then, when death comes, it will only be to call me home. For death is never truly fatal for those who believe in Jesus. It is just a new beginning in a new place where our perspective will be forever changed to everlasting life and unending joy.
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