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MY MISSIONARY CHILD
I helped
her pack her bags to go, My missionary child, Her eager, trusting face
aglow, Passport and Visa filed. "Are you sure," I asked with
troubled voice, "This is what you want to do?" "Mom," she said, "I have no
choice, God has asked me to." "Remember when I was six or
seven, And went to Sunday school? I learned to love Lord Jesus
then, And I thought the Golden Rule was cool." "Do you recall
when I was small, How I set my dollies down in rows, And read Bible verses
to them all, And prayed for all their little souls?" "Daddy
would smile and hug me, As he teased me all the while, Then would say how
much he loved me, That I was his missionary child."
"I think God
earmarked me then,
I could hardly wait 'til I was grown,
So many little
lambs to tend,
So many to lead home."
Well, then I hugged
my daughter,
I knew she had been called,
To go across the water,
To
serve the Greatest One of all.
So, my darling left the nest,
And
started out to parts unknown,
Of course, I knew she had been blest,
But,
how I wanted her at home.
She wrote me nearly every day,
(I
guess God saw to that,)
Gave me the numbers of those saved,
And those
who strayed and then came back.
"Oh, my darling, when God sought
you,
And called you, in His name,
Even though we first begot you,
So
much greater was His claim."
God gives us babies when they're
young,
But this fact of life we know,
The time eventually does
come,
That they are raised, and we let go.
"God wanted you, my
sweetheart,
To be a member of His team,
He planned that one day we would
part,
So you could fulfill that dream."
 "What God and people now
perceive,
Is a gentle woman with a smile,
But to me you shall forever
be
My little missionary child."
Virginia (Ginny) Ellis copyright © 2000
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