My Parents Were Losers
My Mom was a loser. Dad was, too.
It's taken me years to realize that. I guess this analytical age finally caught up with me. Or maybe it was questions and comments I heard that got me thinking, "What did your parents say when you decided to be a missionary?"
"Didn't the neighbors think your folks were weird because their daughter was going overseas?" my son asked.
One missionary candidate said, "My parents wonder what they've done wrong!"
Etched indelibly on my mind are events of more than 40 years ago. I, a young single girl, had sensed the call of God and was preparing to go to Japan. As a missionary. But we had just had a war with Japan. One of my brothers got the Purple Heart from that fighting in the Philippines. Didn't my parents think their daughter had lost her mind to plan on giving up her life for those far-off people?
During the years of preparation, not once do I recall either of my parents trying to dissuade me. Not by a word or even an attitude. They encouraged. Counseled. Dad bought me barrels to pack in. And a pressure cooker. Mom made me a quilt of leftover pieces from clothes she had sewed for me over the years. They made it easy for me to obey God!
On the morning I left, Mother prayed, "Lord, You know that today we are both sad and glad." Sad, that was understandable. But glad? How could she be glad when her only daughter was leaving? For all practical purposes, it was for good.
Many of my 8 brothers and their wives and children were at the train station to say good-bye. I remember walking down the line, cutting ties with each one. The last one was Dad. He was openly crying. I had never seen Dad cry before.
After my first letter home, Mom wrote that it didn't seem like I was so far away when they could get a letter in FIVE days! Direct telephone calls were rare and there were certainly no faxes or e-mails!
But really, they were losers, my parents. When one brother went to India and one to Africa they were triple losers.
Whenever there was a family event, we 3 were missing, unless a furlough coincided. We couldn't drop by and take them for rides. And when I married in Japan, my Dad couldn't give me away.
Then along came grandchildren. Practically strangers when they did see each other. Two-way losers, both for the grandparents and the kids.
They were losers even when death intruded. Didn't Mom deserve to have me there when Dad died suddenly? Or at least for the funeral. I tried to make it, but having small children, I couldn't.
Robert Slessor wanted, planned to be a missionary. He talked to his sister of his dreams. Then he died suddenly. His sister Mary was touched. One day she came to her mother and said she felt she must go in his place. What did her mother reply? "Oh, I've lost a son and I can't lose you, too?" No, she confided, I've been praying you would go."
What dedication. Dedication to be a loser.
Yes, my parents were losers all right. But by those standards?
a hopeless, helpless, dark alcoholic, she was rescued and "recovered" by Jesus Christ. Now for 5 years she's been teaching the Bible and English to Japanese. It's a brand new life that counts.
Yes, my parents were losers all right. But by those standards?
It's taken me years to realize that. I guess this analytical age finally caught up with me. Or maybe it was questions and comments I heard that got me thinking, "What did your parents say when you decided to be a missionary?"
"Didn't the neighbors think your folks were weird because their daughter was going overseas?" my son asked.
One missionary candidate said, "My parents wonder what they've done wrong!"
Etched indelibly on my mind are events of more than 40 years ago. I, a young single girl, had sensed the call of God and was preparing to go to Japan. As a missionary. But we had just had a war with Japan. One of my brothers got the Purple Heart from that fighting in the Philippines. Didn't my parents think their daughter had lost her mind to plan on giving up her life for those far-off people?
During the years of preparation, not once do I recall either of my parents trying to dissuade me. Not by a word or even an attitude. They encouraged. Counseled. Dad bought me barrels to pack in. And a pressure cooker. Mom made me a quilt of leftover pieces from clothes she had sewed for me over the years. They made it easy for me to obey God!
On the morning I left, Mother prayed, "Lord, You know that today we are both sad and glad." Sad, that was understandable. But glad? How could she be glad when her only daughter was leaving? For all practical purposes, it was for good.
Many of my 8 brothers and their wives and children were at the train station to say good-bye. I remember walking down the line, cutting ties with each one. The last one was Dad. He was openly crying. I had never seen Dad cry before.
After my first letter home, Mom wrote that it didn't seem like I was so far away when they could get a letter in FIVE days! Direct telephone calls were rare and there were certainly no faxes or e-mails!
But really, they were losers, my parents. When one brother went to India and one to Africa they were triple losers.
Whenever there was a family event, we 3 were missing, unless a furlough coincided. We couldn't drop by and take them for rides. And when I married in Japan, my Dad couldn't give me away.
Then along came grandchildren. Practically strangers when they did see each other. Two-way losers, both for the grandparents and the kids.
They were losers even when death intruded. Didn't Mom deserve to have me there when Dad died suddenly? Or at least for the funeral. I tried to make it, but having small children, I couldn't.
Robert Slessor wanted, planned to be a missionary. He talked to his sister of his dreams. Then he died suddenly. His sister Mary was touched. One day she came to her mother and said she felt she must go in his place. What did her mother reply? "Oh, I've lost a son and I can't lose you, too?" No, she confided, I've been praying you would go."
What dedication. Dedication to be a loser.
Yes, my parents were losers all right. But by those standards?
a hopeless, helpless, dark alcoholic, she was rescued and "recovered" by Jesus Christ. Now for 5 years she's been teaching the Bible and English to Japanese. It's a brand new life that counts.
Yes, my parents were losers all right. But by those standards?
posted by Lila @ 12:22 PM
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