I have been thinking about Lottie Moon lately. She was a missionary to China who ultimately never made it back to the states for medical attention. We honor her name and work with an offering each christmas given to international missions.
Not long ago I was having a conversation with someone on the related topic of sacrifice. I brought up the story of Lottie to illustrate a point in the conversation to which my friend replied “well she was stupid to do that” - meaning allowing herself to starve by giving away her only food to others.
I suppose in a practical sense, that is true. She is no good to anyone if she is sick or being shipped back to the states, or dead. The “stupidity” appears in the ability to do something about it and choosing otherwise.
But her sacrifice was for the sake of others. Naturally, we see a difference. Our minds allow for such noble and selfless acts of personal neglect. We see a sacrificial display of love for others, especially when we remember she did so for the sake of hungry children.
Children always change the way we think. We think of sweet little dirty faces wandering the streets until someone like Lottie comes along to meet a need and minister to them. Those of us who are parents imagine children the ages of our own and ache over the demises they encounter, and though sad, we are thankful it is not the fate of our own.
But here’s the thing that occurred to me the other day as I was being prayed over by other men. We (ministers in particular) sometimes have this Lottie Moon mentality. We feed and nourish others to the severe, starving neglect of our own spiritual health.
As these gentlemen were praying over me and lifting up my struggles and challenges, I found myself almost weeping as I listened. I choked back a lump in my throat and the urge to break loose in tears. The familiarity of their prayers was overwhelming.
I listened to the words they used and the prayers they expressed. I listed as they used scripture in their prayers to reinforce God’s promises to me. I listened to the authenticity in their voices and realized I have prayed the same prayers many times before... over others.
I knew what they were going to pray even before it launched from their lips. So many times I have prayed prayers over others in a hallway, a home or the setting of my office. So many times I have quoted “just the right passage” to someone at the point of their greatest need. So many times I have prayed over the phone. So many times, and so simple to execute... for others.
As we stood there with their hands on my shoulders, a scripture passage was read from the worship leader over us. It was a passage I, myself, had preached on only a few weeks ago. I almost broke in two as I heard the words being spoken. I read those same words in a similar environment over others. I had people come to me afterwards to thank me for the message. I had a man in tears after the service telling me his story of why that scripture was so special to him. I left the service that day knowing that I had delivered the message God gave me to the people needing to be fed that morning. I did so methodically. I did so mechanically. I did so technically. I did so passionately. But I also did so hungrily.
I cannot afford to have a Lottie Moon mentality in ministry. It does me no good to have all the right words for others and sacrifice my own feasting for the sake of that mission to others. It is easy to justify. It is easy to non-admittedly be a martyr in that area. It is easy to get caught up in the ministry to others and sacrifice my own personal care. It is a false martyrdom. More importantly, it is unnecessary. Unlike Lottie who sacrificed in the environment of limited resources, I have an unlimited source of nourishment from God. I have unlimited access to him through prayer. Why do I struggle so to get personal prayer over my own needs revved up?
God spoke to me earlier this week about this neglect in my own walk and clearly told me to simply pray over my own needs the same way I pray over others. In simple terms. In simple phrases. With simple passion. With simple scripture. With simple openness. With simple vulnerability. Anything less is simply... stupid.
