I still remember the moment that I was reading through a history of apostolic missions and I found it. “March 2, 1989. Birth of Melinda Poitras, future Missionary.” I thought, at that moment, that such a declaration was horribly unfair. What if I wanted to be a doctor? Or a lawyer? Or a novelist? Or a waitress? To have a life plan inked into a history before one is even old enough to read it seemed unjust indeed. That’s the thing about life – it isn’t fair.
It isn’t fair that I was birthed into a family who ate, slept, and breathed souls, saints, writing, teaching, and missions. It isn’t fair that I got to begin my missionary career by spending nineteen years involved in various kinds of ministry in Africa. That I have lived in Ghana and Nigeria and spent time in the Ivory Coast, Togo, Burkina Faso, Nigeria, Malawi, Liberia, and South Africa. It isn’t fair that I had a missionary mother who became one of the first AIMers when Robert Rodenbush launched the pilot program – the same program that enables me to become an AIMer myself thirty-two years later. That’s the thing about blessings – they’re rarely “fair.”
I have already spent nineteen years in Africa, but it turns out that isn’t enough. Because the country I grew up in has a population of roughly 24,965,816 people who need the Lord. I need to tell them. I have to admit, it’s beginning to look like I may never be a waitress.