A Living Legacy

I must have checked the flight status twenty times before finally arriving at the airport. I was so excited that I was pacing the halls and tapping my foot and I kept patting my leg with my hand. I watched the same five-minute promotional video for tourism in Burkina Faso over and over again on the screen right above the baggage claim exit until I finally saw her.

"Your mom is here!" sais some random man when he came out of baggage claim and spotted me. I wondered who he was and how he knew my mom, but I didn't really care too much about it because I was just so happy. 

After seven months of being across the ocean from one of the people whom I love the most in the whole wide world, I gave the biggest hug ever to the world's best mom. It was like seven months worth of hugs all packed into one! 

We spent the evening chatting over Italian food and catching up on almost a year's worth of activity. I think she was impressed with the quality of the food and the coolness of the weather after our recent rain, but she was a little scared by my driving and the traffic in Ouagadougou, the capital city of over two million people. It's a little bit like being in a real life version of Mario Kart. 

She jumped right into ministry the next morning as we picked up Namwin Bonna Youor (God Knows Her Name) from the pediatric clinic to take her back home to our city after three months of treatment. Although she is three months old, she just now looks like a newborn baby, and her weight of three  kilograms qualifies her for discharge home. Only two days after my arrival, we found this premature baby in a suitcase in the bush and brought her immediately to Ouaga to try to save her life. Now, three months later, my mom got to be a part of bringing this miracle baby home. After loading the car, we stopped for a moment to pray, thanking God for his work in her life. He did it; he saved her by doing the impossible: preserving a fragile life in a hostile environment against all odds. He indeed knows her name, and we believe he has great plans for her future. Even as a newborn, she is already testifying to the greatness of God. 

When we arrived home, my mother received a most warm welcome from Rebeca and Juliette, who both had a good time trying to use their English and just ended up laughing at each other. They both wrapped their arms around my mom and said, "Your daughter has become a sister to us, so when you come it is like receiving our own mother." They call her mama. 

Of course no one can believe that she is my mom. "No, she is your big sister!" they all say. "You resemble each other like twins!" 

This is still one my mom's favorite compliments, and it is mine as well because I have no greater honor than to resemble my mom. I hope I resemble her in more than just appearance, but in action and mannerism as well. 

My mom, who taught me Bible stories, came to kids' club today to help us teach Bible stories to the children of our city. 

My mom, who taught me to serve and love others, has come bravely and unselfishly to serve and love with me in Burkina Faso, even when it may be a little outside her comfort zone. 

My mom, who has prayed for me since I was a baby, is now praying alongside me for all our ministries and for the people of Burkina. Even since arriving, she has said a special prayer for baby Namwin Bonna Youor, an encouraging prayer for the unborn baby of a friend of ours, a thankful prayer for all the children at kids' club, a powerful prayer for the property that will soon be developed for wholistic ministry, and a sincere prayer for all the members of our national team. 

I couldn't ask for more. My heart is full. 

When I look at her, I see a legacy that I want to follow. From rocking me as a baby and telling me about Jesus to coming all the way across an ocean to serve with me in Burkina, she is living a legacy of faithfulness, compassion, and love for the Word of God and the souls of people. This legacy is one that I want to follow starting today and one that I hope to leave for my children one day as well. 

Thanks, mom, for coming to Burkina. Thanks for loving me all my life and now also loving the people whom I have come to love. I am not sure you can rank the ones you love, but if you can, I will always love you most of all.