Heroes and Legends

Elisabeth Elliot

All of us have legends and heroes we grow up with.  There are stories of great deeds that get retold so many times they get old or commonplace. In my childhood, there is one story we had to tell over and over again every time a work team came to visit our school.

You see, our school--Nate Saint Memorial School--was named after one of the five missionaries who was speared by a hostile tribe in the jungle while trying to tell them about Jesus.  We sang the song (to the tune of Finlandia!) that the five sang before they went out on their last flight, and so told the visiting Americans the story of how the work in Ecuador got started.  It's a powerful narrative of wanting to share good news with people of a different culture and language.  And it's the story of the power of forgiveness and sacrificial love.  Two of the wives of the men who were killed went back with their children to live among the very people who killed their husbands, to learn their language, to live as they did, and to convey the ultimate message of forgiveness.

One of the wives, Margie Saint, I met on one of those tour groups who came through the school. The other, Elisabeth Elliot, I never met.  But it is her passing away this month that made me stop to think about the role models and legends I grew up with.  I mean, the very reason my family was in Ecuador was because these five men opened the doors to missionary flying in the region and my dad became an MAF pilot.  Everyone around me was there because they felt called to further the good news of Jesus Christ to people who hadn't heard. So not only did I sing about it to visitors, but my childhood in the Amazon jungle area happened because of a message so compelling it had to be shared and lived out.

Is it any wonder that with role models of sacrifice, missions and breaching cultures and languages, I would have had a "save the world" attitude?  There is something noble and deeply moving about giving your life for someone else, for a cause that will outlast you.  The strange reality is, everyday life reminds you of how small you are, and one day your realize that you're not cut out for it.  I can't save Syria from ISIS, or any other region for that matter. It is not my job to save the world.  (Sigh of relief!)

I have not become a cynic after the initial shock at my lack of superpowers.  I have rather noted a deeper strand of living that I must cling to.  In each situation, I can look for what God is doing and choose to join him.  It is a very small thing, but it is very bold.  Half the time I don't get what he's up to, and sometimes I am hard-hearted and insecure. But I think the greatest way that I can offer my life, is to actually let God lead it in both the small and the great things.   To learn to walk with him and hear him.  The joy that comes through that brings a measure of satisfaction that nothing else can.

But let me end with a thought about Elisabeth Elliot, who went on to write many books, become a sought-after speaker and a radio show host.  She was one person, who, with all her giftings, opinions and experiences, was at the disposal of a greater Love, to do as He willed in her life.

Elliot's former radio producer wrote about her show and the people who called in:

"Just as each story was different, each story was also the same. As Elisabeth so often reminded her listeners: Every situation—no matter how dark and distressing—if given to Jesus, can become your gateway to joy. It was true then and is still true today. What matters to you matters infinitely more to him."

Within that statement is good news.  Because we matter to the Eternal God, he did everything possible to bring us to him in true relationship.  He sacrificed first, loved first, gave first. Remembering that He is present in every and any situation changes how we view the mundane things and especially the difficult things.  There's a lot more that could be said, but I just wanted to say I am thankful for the heroes of my faith and of my life.  The aren't perfect by far, but they point to the One who is.