In the year 2000 I met an American missionary who was born in California but lived as a missionary in Indonasia most of her life, only coming back to America in her teen years to finish up school. Her heart was very much in Indonasia and she was gathering up a team to go back and raising funds to do so. You know how much I love missions and I’ve participated in so many missions projects and trips I’ve lost count.
In 2004 a happy story turned sad as Indonasia lost more than 200,000 people to a Tsunami, and my missionary friends went missing and are presumed dead.
In 2006 I got to meet another American (now Canadian) missionary who grew up in Indonasia. He married one of my best friends (I was the videographer at their wedding, and I did a terrible job). While I was video taping the ceremony, I couldn’t help think about the ones I’ve lost.
It’s fair to say that I’ve participated in a lot of missions projects, I’d like to say more than 100 but I don’t know anymore. At least not right now. I’ve been to missions dinners with over 200 missionaries present, laughing, enjoying and telling me their adventures.
But I can’t stop thinking about the ones I’ve lost.
