Dear Meum,

Five years ago, I came home from my first youth church camp, my first camp ever. That week was the longest I’d ever been away from home without you by my side, and as I got in the car, I remember you asking me how my week went. Without a moment of hesitation, I started sobbing. This was the first of dozens of conversations to come that I would tell you about what God was doing in my life through streams of tears.

This wasn’t your typical after camp revelation. I wasn’t feeling guilty about the music I was listening to. I didn’t rededicate my life like so many of the kids around me; no, that would have been too easy. That week, your 13-year-old daughter accepted the calling on her life to full-time overseas missions, and out of all the reactions you could of had, you simply hugged me tight and said, “I wouldn’t expect any less from someone with a heart as big as yours.” You may not even remember this, but in the times when I’m scared of the path God has put me on, those words are the ones that help me to be brave again.

Two years later, however, when I came home one Wednesday talking about Africa, it became a different story. Now, I wasn’t just planning a life of missions; I was living it out. I can still remember the long nights of discussion leading up to the trip; you would express your hesitations, and I would always reply with the fact that this is the life God has in store for me. I don’t think I realized at the the time how big of a deal this was. Letting the youngest of your three children get on a plane and fly halfway across the world must have been hard for you. I still remember filling out what seemed like endless amounts of paperwork and watching the sadness fill your eyes as we discussed what was to be done with my body should I have died during my time overseas.

I know you were scared, and no matter how happy you tried to be, I’m sure this wasn’t your favorite moment. I wish you could understand the importance of putting your name on that dotted line has in my life. The second you stepped back and let me start doing what I was called to do is the very moment I realized you believe in me. Every moment spent in my time overseas were the most comfortable I’d ever been in my own body. I was finally doing what I was made for and I can truly say that during those hot nights laying in bed halfway across the world that I realized who I was. All of this was made 100 times better knowing that back home you had enough faith in God and enough trust in me to get home safely. It's true; I left a piece of my heart in the middle of that African village, but that piece is nothing compared to the part of my heart that I keep my love for you in.

Here we are, five years later, and your almost 19-year-old daughter is still just as mission minded and stubborn about it as ever. Unlike most things in my life, this wasn’t a phase that I grew out of, and I think we are both realizing just how real this calling is. As we start preparing for my next trip overseas, I’m sure you have a lot of questions about my safety and overall well-being. I often brush these questions off because this calling of mine came hand in hand with the promise that I won’t always be in the safest situation, but I’ll always be in the situation God needs me to be in. This may be a tough thing to accept, and I know it's asking a lot of you.

I’d like to remind you of that moment five years ago when both of our lives changed, the moment I became a missionary, and you became the mother of a girl who couldn’t seem to contain her passion and drive for making disciples of all nations. I know that my excitement to leave home can be a little painful sometimes, but no matter how far you let me go, I will always find my way back home to you.

My calling isn’t a common one; there isn’t exactly a support group for missionary moms, and I’m sure you can feel alone sometimes. I pray you find comfort in knowing that you’ve raised a woman you can be proud of. You've instilled in me a heart for the nations, and along the way, you poured enough love in me to share with the whole world. All the gentleness and understanding, every ounce of patience and bravery in my body are all characteristics I have you to thank for. I truly am traveling down the narrow road (Matthew 7:13-14), but I know with your support along the way, no hardship or food will be too hard to swallow.

Thank you for your faith. Thank you for letting go when you know the time is right. Thank you for helping me not go over the weight limit when packing because baggage fees are stupid high. Thank you for helping me fundraise even though this is our least favorite thing. Thank you for reminding me that everything happens for a reason. Thank you for your big hugs. Thank you for showing me the importance of letting go of our plans, so we can grab onto the ones God has for us. Thank you for laughing at my jokes even when they aren’t funny. Thank you for your tireless understanding, and most of all, thank you for believing in me.

Love always,

Your mission-minded daughter