The following article was written by Jennifer McPhail. Reprinted by permission from GFA Missions.
I leaned over my bleeding daughter, adrenaline pumping through my own veins as I obeyed the instructions of my nurse friend and co-worker, Heidi. My sweet 7-year-old Savannah looked up into my eyes from the tile floor beneath the ladder-like stairs and asked, “Why did God let me fall? I was getting toys for the little kids!”
Savannah will always bear the scar in her forehead from the wound that bared bone that day, and my own soul would bleed and fester over the next weeks as I grappled with her question that cut deeply into my mother-heart. It was a wound that would eventually heal but leave its mark on me.
Our Stewardship
Our gracious Father had given three beautiful children to Forrest and me to shepherd and steward, and we had gladly accepted the responsibility. The Lord also made it clear that we would be raising them in a rural province of Cambodia, known among the developing world for its rugged poverty. Our response was always a resounding “God will take care of us!” But what did that mean now? My pain cried out, God, we have given up so much to come here and serve the Cambodian people. Can I not trust you to keep my children safe from harm? I wanted to require God to insulate my family from hurts in exchange for our sacrifice and service. This would not do. I would wrestle with Him, even until the break of day, but He would prevail with a single touch. He is Lord.
I loved to think of how the Lord had taught me to embrace risks for His Name’s sake, tamping down my fear and stepping out, then gasping at the wonder of what He can do with just a little faith. I talk about it to others. I write about it. But the glory takes on an uncertain hue when my risk-taking affects my little ones. Can I pursue activities that promote the Gospel, knowing sickness and danger will encroach on their young lives too?
I can be a good steward as I help my children experience how to invest in eternal things, counting cost according to God’s economic system, not the world’s. I am the best person to teach them carefully- calculated risks, taken for the most important cause ever, with exponentially increasing returns that will be revealed on the other side of eternity. Will they get sick? Probably. Will they have friendship challenges in another culture? Certainly. Will they encounter danger? Likely.
Facing Our Worst Fears With God’s Word
As a mother, I need to face my very worst fears of what might happen to my children. I need to grapple with God and His Word, letting truth dawn on those fears and reveal the person Who Himself is the center of it all. He is the reason I would give it all, the Redeeemer of my soul. He is the great need of every heart. He is the Lord of the harvest. He is the Creator and Sustainer of my children. He is the all-wise Architect and Author of each life temporarily nestled in my home.
Hannah, in her profound gratitude to a prayer-answering Jehovah, gave her just-weaned child to serve in God’s house far from her care. As I fill my heart with the treasure of knowing the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, I too can entrust my children to Him. I think of how precious those years must have been when Hannah had Samuel at home! How the burden to teach him all that she knew must have pressed upon her! Did David’s mother feel like me when the irritable king called for her son to be his court entertainment? Could my child be a Daniel if we parents were forcibly removed from them? Or a compassionate servant girl to Namaan if forcibly taken from us? We serve a God Who records in detail leading a teen boy through hatred, abuse, and enslavement before He reveals His purpose in such pain. We all love Joseph, with his faithful stand and testimony to Jehovah God in a pagan land.
Resting in Our Loving Father’s Hands
The truth is that we cannot shelter our children from suffering. This was brought home to me through yet another injury with our fourth child and youngest daughter. It happened on the day we decided to take a brief hike near Interstate 40 on the border of North Carolina and Tennessee—just to say we had walked on the Appalachian trail. Four-year-old Sierra had never been to the States before, and we wanted her to experience many beautiful things about our passport country. Less than five minutes from our van, a young rattlesnake struck, and my tiny girl with golden curls had two bleeding punctures on her instep.
Thus began another McPhail adventure, complete with ambulance, helicopter, and antivenom. But this time nobody could blame Cambodia or mission endeavors. The irony tickled us to tears of joyful understanding. We didn’t ask the same kinds of questions. We were resting in our loving Father’s hands, doing the next thing, and noticing along the way His many special reminders of His care. We were very aware He gave, and He can take away.
There are no guarantees in this life. At least, not the kind that keep you healthy, wealthy, and wise. We are all in His hands—father, mother, sister, brother, missionary, or local church member. And He is so trustworthy! I can magnify His worth as I entrust to His care the children He has temporarily entrusted to my care. Fellow mothers, let’s surrender our fears and ambitions for our children and let the Lord write their stories according to His perfect wisdom.
