Previously,
on AmyLocks, I shared the first part of a talk I recently gave at my
church. Here’s part two of that story.
My
adult life in a nutshell or gift box can be summed up in four words: marriage,
missions, motherhood and moving. Today,
we’ll talk about the first two.
Marriage.
My sister, Sumarie, graduated from Auburn University in Auburn, AL about three
months before fall quarter my freshman year.
Our Daddy owned a duplex just off campus where we each took a turn
living. When I got settled into 320
Genelda Avenue, I was pleased and surprised to find I had inherited not only
Sumarie’s furniture, but also several of her friends. One of those friends was
Andrew, a brilliant engineer, who was getting his masters in astrology, I mean,
astronomy, and was under direct orders from Sumarie to “take care of my little
sister.” Andrew would occasionally show
up at my house and invite me to eat at Arby’s, go see the free movie on campus
or play tennis. On one of these outings,
Andrew introduced me to his cute roommate Bobby.
Apparently, Bobby was mature enough
to overlook the immaturity of Amy Bass, the loud, silly freshman. I was a very excited and overscheduled Auburn
student and had to refuse Bobby’s first offer of a date because of another
commitment. But, Bobby persisted and
asked me to see Up With People about a week later. That date was followed quickly by evenings
getting yogurt at The Railing or watching the aforementioned free movies, or
seeing Twila Paris in concert. Auburn University offered lots of great free
events in the spring of 1990, at God’s direction I have no doubt. Bobby never would have asked me out so often
if he’d had to pay for dinner and a movie each time. He says he knew it was love when we went on
three dates and he spent less than $5 total.
Three years to the day after that
first “Up With People” date, Bobby and I were married at my hometown church. The
ceremony was much too long and there were way too many attendants. My hair and the sleeves of my wedding gown
were huge, but oh! what a perfect day. We celebrated our 25 anniversary this
past May. It has been mostly blissful.
While in college, I attended a
Bible study taught by Betty Thomas. Ms.
Betty taught a bunch of headstrong, college-educated women that the Bible says
wives are to be submissive and respectful of their husbands. That was a tricky line to walk in the
nineties and even more so now. She told
us that God blesses the obedience of such counter-cultural behavior. I chose to trust her, at the time, but now
I’ve lived it and she’s right. If I hadn’t spent two hours every Monday night
of my college years sitting on the floor of Ms. Betty’s well-vacuumed home,
learning what it meant to be a Godly woman, my marriage to Bobby would have
been even rockier than it sometimes was.
Marriage hasn’t always been easy but after this quarter of a century
spent together I’m blessed to be able to say that Bobby Britton is not only my
calmer, wiser and better half. He’s also
my best friend.
Missions.
Close to the end of the three years Bobby and I dated, he told me was having a
struggle with God. God had asked Bobby if he was willing to give up everything
for Him. At first Bobby honestly admitted he wasn’t. Over time, however, Bobby
realized he was willing to submit completely.
As a result, Bobby was praying about going overseas as a missionary. I
had just spent a summer on a missions trip of sorts. I was a “Peace Intern” with the Disciples of
Christ denomination which meant I travelled across the country talking with
high schoolers about peace with justice issues.
Through that journey I learned I didn’t want to go off and have adventures
then come home and tell Bobby about them. I wanted us to experience things together.
So, Bobby decided to wait until we were married and could pursue missions as a
couple.
About a year after our wedding,
Bobby and I started a long application process with International Teams (IT), a
small missions organization based near Chicago, IL. During conversations with
IT we were given several options regarding where we could serve. Did we want to help plant a church in Spain
or work with refugees in Austria? We
chose Austria and joined the Baden Area Refugee Team.
We spent two years in Baden doing
some of the hardest work I’ve ever done. It was emotionally draining. The
definition of a refugee is ”a person who has left their home out of a
well-founded fear of persecution.” What
that definition doesn’t tell you is how scared and desperate and sad a refugee
can become. As a refugee in “the
system”, you’re applying for asylum in other countries and trying to document
the reasons you left your homeland.
You’re interviewed extensively by officials in a language that probably
isn’t familiar to you, but mostly, you’re just waiting, sometimes for years.
The
team we worked with tried to make that waiting a little easier. We offered coffee bar nights where people
could gather and drink coffee, of course, but they could also play chess and checkers. Men gathered to watch the Jesus film in one
of over 50 languages and receive a Bible in the language that spoke to their
heart. We held weekly kids clubs where
we shared Bible stories and snacks and games with the refugee children. We had women’s times where we ate together and
did crafts and the women could get to know each other.
 |
| Bobby with some rowdy boys at Kids' Club |
At one of these women’s times, I sat
with a Kurdish woman from Iraq named Noksha.
She didn’t speak English, I didn’t speak Kurdish and neither of us spoke
much German which was often the common language between us. I had the fun job of “translating” for Noksha
that day. A different story could have
made my life easier, but on this day a missionary friend shared from Mark
5:24-34, the woman with the issue of blood who, in her hopelessness and
desperation, waded into a crowd of people to touch the hem of Jesus’ robe. She
craved comfort and healing. In order to get the point of the story across, I
used lots of simple German words and a great deal of acting. At one point I was
lying on the floor by our table and I made sweeping arm gestures through the
whole thing. Yeah. That was fun.
I wonder what in the world Noksha thought I was trying to tell her.
But,
most of our work involved visiting with refugees in their rooms or in our
home. We shared stories and food and
culture with each other. We also shared the intense joy and relief our friends
felt when accepting visas to travel to their new home, or the devastation and
anguish they experienced when denied asylum yet again. We offered these people all we had which was
hope in a relationship with Christ. We
reminded them that Christ cared about people from Iran or Afghanistan or Sierra
Leone who had to leave home and family to travel a difficult and costly road to
an end they couldn’t see, just as He cared for the woman in Mark who touched
the hem of his robe.
Three
people we grew to love were Alina, Hamik and Sissian, a young couple with a
three-year old daughter. Bobby and I
spent a lot of time with them, sharing dreams and hopes, and enjoying each
other’s company. This is the one refugee
family I still hear from because we’re friends on Facebook of all things. Alina, Hamik and Sisian eventually got asylum,
then citizenship here in the US. They’ve
both completed their educations, have good jobs and now that same daughter, the
one I remember being so tiny and bright eyed, is in her first year of dental
school in California.
I loved being a missionary and was
sad when God called us back to the United States. I felt competent and useful in Austria. The ministry was a good fit for me and I
loved working so closely with our team; a group of people who’s values and
priorities so closely aligned with my own.
I’m so thankful I fell in love with a man who had missions in his heart
because I know I would never have attempted such an adventure on my own.
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