Hmm, where is my Bible?  I put in on the table, but then Alex wanted to create
with the Playdough.  So I moved it to the bed, but then Tasha started
reaching for it, so I … Oh, yes, here it is.  Okay, now Matthew 28, the
Great Commission.  I need to read that again, Jesus’ last words on earth to His
disciples.  It is the reason we came to Lesotho — to make disciples and teach
them to obey God’s Word and …Oops, smells like someone needs a diaper change.

           
God, you know sometimes I wonder why I ever came to Lesotho.  I thought I was
going to be a great Bible teacher.  I thought that I was going to do
something that would make a difference for eternity.  But, I am not.  How can a
Mom be a missionary?  Brian goes out to do the Bible teaching, and
I am just stuck at home taking care of our children.  I know that is important. 
Yes, I love Alex and Tasha.  O, yes, this was my choice.  But, God, when will I
be able to do something for the kingdom again?

           
There is someone at the door.  Another beggar.  Well, we must not turn him away.
After all Jesus said, "I was hungry, and you gave me something to eat."  I will
give him the last of the bread.  I will just have to make biscuits or something
for lunch.  But, at least we have choices.

           
Where was I?  The Great Commission — l suppose. ..Oh, no, another interruption.
It is a wonder I ever get anything done.  A cup of juice?  Sure, I can get that
for you, Alex.  And I suppose the neighbourhood collected in our yard would all
like a drink too. Well, we can accommodate those requests.  I might even get a
blessing if I have the right attitude.  After all Jesus said that if I give even
a cup of water to one of the little ones because I am His disciple, I will not
lose my reward.

           
I need to get lunch going.  It had better be soup and biscuits. You never know
how many pastors might stop by at lunch lime to visit Brian, pick up Bible study
material, or drop off tests.  Soup can always be stretched to feed a few more. 
Sure wish I was Brian, sitting in that quiet office, writing materials that have
the potential to change lives.  Now what?  Some stranger at the door wanting to
borrow our stapler.  He says he is from down the road and will return it right
away.  Should I trust him?  Well, I will this time.  It is something I have that
I can share.  Hopefully he will return it.  If not, well, it is better to be too
generous than too stingy.  As soon as Tasha is down for a nap, I must get out
the box of newborn clothes.  My neighbor lady knows an orphan who has just had a
baby.  I will see what I can find to help clothe that poor infant.  Our babies
had so much.

           
Not again! This must be the tenth time today that I have wiped Alex’s nose.  Do
you suppose the kids will ever grow up so that I will be able to get something
else done?  Oh, well, at least he has not been coughing and awake all night like
he was last week.  As soon as I have a chance to use the car, I must take the
children and visit the old grandmother in the village.  Her knees are so bad
that she cannot even leave the compound.  It must be tough to be cooped up like
that.  Well, it is not a prison, but she cannot go anywhere. We must visit her
and bring a bag of coal so at least she can have some warmth during the chilly
winter evenings.

           
Wait a minute.  What was that, God?  Let me check. Yes, here it is.  Matthew
again. "Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance prepared
for you since the creation of the world.  For I was hungry and you gave me
something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a
stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick
and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me. I tell you
the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you
did for me" (Matthew 25:34b-36, 40 NIV).  Really?  God, are you saying
that being a mother is perfectly suited to receiving the kingdom?  Could it be? 
If I was busy with Bible teaching, I might miss opportunities to feed,
invite and clothe those you bring my way.  Is it possible that praying for
Brian, writing letters, cooking, cleaning and caring for our children and, yes,
the rest of the neighbourhood children, is really important to you?  If it is,
why am I complaining? 

       
God, keep sending those interruptions … and help me to be faithful.