I could never do what you do...

We've received letters over the years that have said, "You inspire me so much" "Thanks for being so brave!" "I could never do what you do."

This is the kintsuji (imitation) that I did
at the retreat last month. A reminder that
we're all broken. I was at the retreat
because I was exhausted and in need
of refreshment.

Somehow I don't find these letters very encouraging. It means that the readers have put us on some kind of pedestal, like a superhero. I feel like they don't really "get" me. I feel so unlike a superhero. I've got no superpowers. I feel the same feelings you do. I am not perfect by any stretch of the imagination. I am frail and needy, just like the writers of those letters.

I'd rather they stand alongside me and get to know me a bit, so they could see past the "missionary" label and the "Tokyo" address.

I'd rather that they stopped to consider what it would be like to walk in my shoes, rather than try to walk in my footsteps in their own shoes. 

I'd rather they considered that the only reason we can do what we do is because we've got an amazing heavenly Father who enables us to do it . . . that we're in the same family, with the same heavenly Father.

I'd rather not be an inspiration written about in a letter, but rather that our lives would change something in theirs.

On Monday our eldest son arrived from Brisbane for a short stay between semesters. I had mixed feelings: yes, excitement. But also sadness knowing that we'd just have to say goodbye again. Plus plenty of other emotions that are harder to name. We're in a better place to welcome him than we were in January, as our schedule is more flexible and we're more settled. But still mixed emotions.

I've had people say: "I couldn't do that" (i.e. have our son away like this). Well, it's not easy, but it's not something that makes each day a burden. It's not a sorrow that is weighing me down each day. And it's certainly not something that I think should make others either pity me or idolise me. Either of those are actually pretty repulsive to me and I can see why my friend who is significantly visually impaired occasionally raves on her Facebook page about how much she hates it when people like her are set up by the media (or the general public) as an inspiration, or an object to be pitied. Because that is dehumanising. Those feelings separate you from me and mean it's harder for us to connect on a real level.

The author of this short post says it well:(as a response to the "I couldn't do it!" exclamation):

"You are right. You could not do it, and neither can I. That is the whole point. He wants to do it through me and through you, so that we can be mirrors that brightly reflect His glory."

Paul also said it:
2 Cor. 3:5, 18; 4:7; 12:10

 Not that we are competent in ourselves to claim anything for ourselves, but our competence comes from God…And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into His likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, Who is the Spirit…But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us…That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. (NIV)