Last week I transported a missionary. That’s what MAF’s all about, right? Only I’m not a pilot, and I wasn’t flying a plane. I was just being who I am, an MAF wife, driving home from my part-time teaching gig at my kids’ school, when I saw a spry elderly lady hauling two bulging shopping bags. I pulled over and offered her a ride to the MAF guest house, where she was staying.
Her name is Lorraine, and she and her husband have been serving in Papua for more years than I’ve been alive. Fifty-five to be exact. Even though they’ve officially retired, they make the long trip out here frequently and spend time working on commentaries for Bible school students. Lorraine told me they were heading to their village (hence the bags of supplies) so her husband could work on the commentaries for Jeremiah, Lamentations, and Ezekiel.
Before she got out of the car, she turned to me with a big smile and said, “You know, we appreciate MAF so much. We couldn’t do this without you all.”
I needed to hear that, and needed the encouragement of her example. She and her husband could have easily retired and settled into a life of visiting grandchildren and gardening and church activities, and no one would fault them for it. But they choose to continue a life of service overseas, subjecting themselves to brutal jet lag, and flying into a village that has been closed at times to MAF because of violence.
Lorraine’s one of my heroes. She’s loving and serving Jesus enthusiastically, showing us young folk how it can be done.