Ever since he was knee high to a Doberman, our son Steve was fearless. Take him to the ocean, he’d swim out looking for sharks. Take him to the mountains and he’d see how high he could climb. One day when he was five, I watched him jump off a roof with a garbage bag duct-taped to his back. Don’t worry. It was nothing a good doctor couldn’t set. I had wondered for years: What will God make of our son? Will he call him to be a test pilot? A crash test dummy? A professional bungee-jumper? Or will he fulfill every North American parent’s dream by settling down in a huge house with a smiling wife and provide us grandchildren to spoil? After Steve entered college, the unexpected answer arrived by email one day.
“Dear Dad and Mom, I just want you to know that I met a couple nice girls and we’re planning on being married. In Utah. Not really. But I did meet Lucy. You’ll like her a lot. Lucy owns a tattoo parlor but seldom works. Her father won some money in a lottery, so she’s set for life. I won’t need to work anymore either. If you haven’t fainted yet, here’s the truth. It may be more shocking. In Uganda, The Lord’s Resistance Army has abducted 50,000 kids and turned the ones they haven’t murdered into soldiers. I’d like to work with street children in Kampala. I’ll be living with local missionaries. It will mean lots of needles, and I’ll need to raise a little money too. Dad, I once heard you say that Jesus came to comfort us, not to make us comfortable. I guess I’ve been comforted enough; it’s time to offer some to others. Love from far away. Your son, Steve.”
“Where do you think we went wrong?” I asked his mother. “Maybe we blew it having all those missionaries over for dinner, taking him to other countries, and showing him what the real world looks like.”
The day came when we found ourselves hugging our firstborn son goodbye as he embarked on a grand adventure half a world away. We wiped tears and remembered what we’d read. Among the many challenges Christian missionaries face, Global Frontier Missions lists language barriers, cultural adjustment, discouragement, loneliness and isolation, then says this: “Personal and family challenges can make the pressures of missionary life even harder to bear.”
Together my wife and I prayed, determining not to stand in the way of his success on this new venture.
When people heard our son was in Uganda, many asked, “Aren’t you worried about his safety?” And I’d be a fool not to admit that I had my moments. But safety isn’t what we’re here for. Isn’t complacency the most dangerous place on earth? Isn’t Suburbia sucking the life out of more of our teenagers than any foreign country ever could?
I must be honest. When Steve was in Uganda, there were times I’d rather he was home making good money—putting it away for my nursing home bills. Yet our hope and prayer for our kids is this: that they will hear God’s voice and listen.
A few nights before he left, I asked Steve what he’d miss most about home. “The dog,” he said, smiling. Then why was it that I found him studying family photos and lounging on the sofa watching an old Disney movie with his siblings? Was he saying goodbye to the remnants of childhood? Whatever happened to the boy I used to play Lego with? The boy I taught to whistle and ride a bike? I shed a few tears when he left. But mostly I gave thanks. 2 Corinthians 3:12 (NIV) says, “Since we have such a hope, we are very bold.” And we have seen that boldness in Steve.
Today, he is back in Canada, married (with children), actively involved in his local church, and helping write and record Laugh Again. But looking back, I’m thankful we got behind him 100 percent. And I’m thankful there were no sharks in Uganda.
