Since I have been in middle school I have been telling myself, as well as anyone who asked, that when I grew up I wanted to be a missionary. For the first time in my life I was ahead of everyone else my age in something. I was defiantly not the first to learn to read or to write. Or other things that kids usually succeed in early in life. However, I knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. I was so sure.

How can a 13 year old know what they want to be when they grow up? Well, sure, many kids have ideas, but I was certain.

You see, I had grown up in the Church. Grown hearing countless stories of those who have gone to distance lands. Those who have lived among people unlike them. Those who have been faced with eating strange foods. Those who have lived lives of adventure.

And even as an infant in my journey with the Lord, I knew that the reason all of those people lived they way they did...eating strange food...being away from home...learning to cope in a new environment...was because of love. Because of the love that God gave to them. Because of the love Christ showed to people when He walked this earth. Because of the love they had for other people. People just like them. People who messed up in life. And were lost. And were living in a state of brokenness. People who felt pain and joy. People who had dreams. And hopes. And people who wanted more than this world could offer.

Even in my small heart and mind, I understood that. And I knew that I wanted to be apart of that. Who was I to be selfish and not share with those people what I had found? I wanted to tell them about Jesus. Tell them that in Him they could find hope. And life.

Among that understanding and desire to spread the Gospel, there was still that appeal of adventure. Adventure that would take me around the world to unknown peoples with more interesting lives than my own. People with stories of living in the exciting jungle instead of the predictable Midwest.

It's only now that I think I'm beginning to understand just how much that desire for adventure blurred my view of reality. I desired the adventures a life overseas would bring more than I desired to show Christ's love. Once again (as it so often happens with me) my own wants and self-centered heart began to overshadow the Truth I knew. My view of life as a missionary became completely focused on the adventure that it promised to bring. And for a while I forgot the reason all of those people chose to live that way. I forgot that it was because of love. And suffering. And the desire to make Christ known to all peoples and nations.

But, the funny thing about growing up and learning about the world, is that along with all of the amazing things in this world (all of the possible adventures), you also begin to learn about all of the sad things as well. You start to learn about war and poverty. About hunger and diseases. About pain and suffering. About selfish governments and harsh leaders. About hopelessness. And you begin to understand there are no easy answers. That many of those problems are connected and effect other problems. And those things...the things that are in this world because of our searching for something other than God that will make us happy (as C.S. Lewis so beautifully states)...are the things that reminded me of the need for Christ in this broken world. This learning reminded me that the main goal of the Christian life should be to tell people about freedom they can find in Christ.

However, learning about the sad things in the world can also begin to weigh down dreams. These things can plant seeds in one's mind about not being gifted or talented enough to deal with and overcome the hard and terrible things in this world.

As I have been learning about the suffering in this world, I have found myself sinking into the pattern of panic. Panic because I don't see how my gifts can help deal with and help those that need help.

And with that panic comes doubt. I began to doubt what I was so sure of back in the seventh grade. I find myself doubting that I can live a life of a missionary. Because, let's face it, I've had a pretty easy life. I've grown up with two parents who love me unconditionally and are always looking out for my best interest. I've grown up in a suburb of America where I've never had to worry about running out of food. Or if the water I'm drinking is safe. I've grown up going to school and I'm now at a great university. I have never gone through the experience of losing someone close to me. How can I possibly relate to and help those whose lives are different than mine? How can I help those who have experienced things I can't even imagine?

That was what part of the summer was supposed to be. Exploring the ways God is working in the world. Exploring different types of ministries. Exploring how my passions and gifts could possibly be used by God in this world to bring love and hope and peace to his suffering children.

But since arriving, I have felt no closer to discovering that than from when I left. Sure, I have been able to explore the ways that God is working and see different types of ministries. And though those things I have become more aware of God. More aware of his love. And mercy. And goodness. I have been encouraged and humbled by the Church in Cambodia...for their joy and contentment in Christ when they have so little in the world's eyes. I learned much from talking to missionaries in many different types of ministry. And, here too, I have been encouraged through their stories of God's faithfulness. And I have finally been able to see what living as a full time ministry is actually like on a day to day basis. (Of course, I know that this is drastically different depending on the type of work one is in and where one lives, among other factors).

However, up until today I was feeling restless about finding how the gifts and passions God has given me can be used for his glory. There have been many times over the past month when I have wished that God had given me the skills and passion for medicine. It has been so evident that there is a need for doctors and nurses around the world. So many ways to use those gifts.

And I've also seen ways teachers can be used overseas for God's kingdom. And, again, I have found myself picturing my life as a teacher overseas...telling myself that's it's ok that I'm not passionate about it. That it's ok to sacrifice the "passion factor" because there is a obvious place teachers can play in full-time ministry. However, I do believe that as Christians we are called to be people of passion. Passionate about loving God and loving people. And I believe that God made us as a body in order to express that love in different, unique ways.

Today I met a lady who works with an NGO called Partners Relief & Development. This organization works with Karen refugees from Burma. It was refreshing to hear about her organization because the needs went beyond doctors and teachers. I began to see how my gifts could fit into full-time ministry. She told us about her work and as she talked, it became so evident how passionate she was about her work and serving the Lord through her work.

And I found myself realizing that it's wrong of me to think I need to settle for something that I don't love. And it's wrong for me to look at myself and count my shortcomings, asking God why he didn't gift me in certain ways. I have spent too much time trying to convince God of what I should do when I "grow up".

And one of the most amazing things I have been learning is that amongst all of the pain, there is hope. One of the great things about God is that he can work beyond our shortcomings. We don't have to have all the answers and solve the problems of this world. All we need to do is allow God to guide our steps, trust Him to use us as he intends, and love Him and others.

It is in our weaknesses and inadequate lives that He is glorified even more!