The life of a missionary is one of constant humiliation. Not humilation in the sense of shame or guilt but of being humbled. I just got back from our weekly men’s Bible study. I was excited because for we had one of those rare instances when a fully grown, head-of-household, visiting man came to our Bible study. This is pretty significant in our context. We’re studying our way through the book of Daniel because there are so many key lessons for men there…until we get to all the weird vision stuff anyway.
So I poured my heart out of all the clever and insiteful things I could think of from Daniel chapter 5. I stretched my poor Albanian language skills into the far abstract…and was corrected a number of times by our adult regulars. Finally, we were finished. Our visitor said he had enjoyed it, that it had been very interesting, etc.
Then one of our most respected men spoke up. “Oh, you should come on Sunday when Pastor Femi is preaching.” It’s MUCH more interesting.
Oh well. That’s the life of a missionary.