I’m No Super-Christian


“This should not be bothering me so much,” I chided myself.

Inside though, my chest pulsed and my mind seethed. The blood within my veins gurgled and spewed. I was furious.

“There have been much greater offenses and even greater challenges in your life than this current one,” I continued to argue with myself. “You need to show more grace, Heather!”

“Yes, but the violations are real. You were used, Heather. Your care, hospitality and generosity were not appreciated,” my thoughts countered again.

“And you keep making more discoveries that show their lack of consideration! Just as you get over one offense, you discover another one that was not divulged earlier. It’s deception, Heather, that’s what it is!” my inner voice accused.


Whoever may think that this missionary girl is above such thinking, needs to re-evaluate their opinion of me. Some people, although not all, believe missionaries are some kind of benevolent, generous, patient and kind ‘super-Christians.’

Super-Christians don’t get angry.

Super-Christians don’t get frustrated.

Super-Christians don’t get emotionally-compromised.

Super-Christians don’t get fed-up.

Super-Christians don’t blow it.

Sorry, Friends.

After this latest situation, I confess that I am not very ‘super!’ In fact, I’ll never become one of those ‘Super-Christians.’

I took a hit this past week.

I won’t give you all the details because I don’t think it is prudent or kind to shame some one in a public forum; especially because I am not walking in their shoes and do not know why they acted as they did. Our contact was brief. They needed something. They whirled in like a hurricane and took it. Then they left some destruction in their wake – without informing us of what they did. It wasn’t a huge catastrophe – but enough to cause damage that can not be restored or repaired to objects that held fond memories for me.

Why is that?

Why do things hold meaning?

Why do places offer security?

Why do I want to protect them – even when I know that these places and things will not last forever?

I believe that when some one harmed or damaged something in my home – and didn’t tell me about it – they harmed and damaged not only some physical objects, but some intangible, invaluable treasures held within my heart as well. I was wounded because these objects were connected to a part of me.

I’ve been warned not to hold anything too tight on this earth.

Jesus said, “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal.  For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” New International Version, Matthew 6: 19-21

But, I confess, I do have some treasures. My treasures have no real material value to others. However, my treasures have memory value. My treasures serve a purpose that can not easily be replaced – if at all. When I look at a particular object, I am flooded with intimate thoughts of a time, a place, and of family and friends that warm my heart or serve me in some special way. I can’t get those things and experiences back. However, these objects offer a sweet touch point that connects me to those times.

So, Jesus, I need to ask You something: How do I release my hold on such things in my life? These are things that truly have no material value on earth and are things that no one but me, would cherish. Yet, they are treasured because of the memories to which they are attached. My heart is drawn to them because they draw me to a blessing.

Dear Jesus,

Help me grow in this area of my life.

Please forgive me for my anger and lack of grace and forgiveness.

Please forgive me for allowing myself to get so worked up!

Please forgive me for judging and condemning the actions of those I really do not know and have no relationship.

And please help me to identify and learn to treasure the things that You treasure most. I’m no ‘super-Christian.’ I continue to learn. I continue to grow. And I continue to fail and try again just like everyone else.

Thank you for your grace. I need it; desperately.


Image retrieved from darrenmabrey.com

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