Broken Tears...

Five minutes ago I received a phone call. The caller ID said it was one of our ladies from church who had gone to camp. When I answered, it was Kayla. A Sobbing Kayla. My Kay Kay doesn't sob. She can cry, but you rarely see her broken, shaken and in tears. She is usually the tough one.

But her heart is oh so big...

It was only about a three minute call, but in those moments she told me how her friend had shared her story to the group tonight. Her friend's parents didn't know Christ. Sobbing into the phone Kayla said that her story made her cry. "Mom, I've never had to deal with anything like that. I just needed to talk to you for just a moment."

Her young friend goes to our church with her step grandma. Kayla and her had several classes together last year. Their personalities are both on the quirky side and they "float" among the different groups at school and church. Both are well liked. But that is where the similarities end. Kayla learned tonight that her friend has a huge burden she deals with everyday...

When she got off the phone I started thinking. Scary, I know, but I realized that in that moment my little girl grew up just a little more. She realized that being a missionary and praying for the world doesn't mean just going to Africa or taking up an offering at Christmas and Easter. She learned first hand that saving the world starts with our neighbors. When the minister on Sunday asks you to pray for one person's salvation daily, that it doesn't always have to be the little starving boy from South America, it can actually mean praying for the friend sitting on the pew beside you.

My parents were missionaries and I've lived on the mission field. The sacrifices made and the jobs our missionaries do are awesome tasks. Yet, it is not up to them alone to share the love of Christ. We are all called to His service. Sometimes we just have to be reminded of that.