CHRISTINE GORDON | CONTRIBUTOR

The first time we met, she was hosting tea in two different rooms of her African home. Tea is a big deal in Malawi, along with the relationships and conversations that surround it. At that point she was probably in her 40s, had one grown son back in the States and a middle school-aged daughter with her while she and her husband served at the African Bible College (ABC) in Lilongwe. She had been a Christian most of her life, grew up in the rural Midwest, loved marriage and children and cooking. After her husband’s army career and her many years as a nurse, they answered a call to Sub-Saharan Africa. There I met them while on a mission trip with a local church during the summer after my senior year of college.

I immediately put Barbara into a small box in my mind that included 1950s moms who baked and waited for their children to come home so they could pour them glasses of milk. Of course, there was nothing wrong with women like this, but I knew I didn’t want to be one. I wanted a career, was unsure of marriage, and had decided I didn’t want children. I had been a Christian just over two years when I walked into Barbara’s living room that summer. I never would have expected how our lives would intertwine, or how much I would want to be like her.

While on the ABC campus those first two weeks, I watched Barbara serve meals, ask questions, and listen to our group of about 20 students. She smiled, laughed, and patiently explained life in Africa to us. She obviously loved and enjoyed Bruce, a large teddy bear of a man who taught classes at the school. I learned that she walked around the gym on campus every day for exercise and asked if I could join her. She graciously allowed me to come for the first of what would become many shared walks. Barbara was just beginning to become to me what felt like an anchor in the changing and sometimes confusing sea that was Africa.

Meanwhile, our team from the US visited villages, shared the gospel, and spent time with students. As I saw more and more of the poverty around me, (Malawi was the 4th poorest country in the world at the time), I struggled. The questions I had in the back of my mind about a good God and pain in the world were suddenly front and center. Bruce and Barbara had a meeting in their house to discuss what we had seen and felt. She moved among us offering tea, a listening ear, and comfort.

When the team left to return to the states, I stayed to do an internship in a rural hospital to fulfill a college requirement for my health education degree. Barbara put me on the bus that would travel 90 miles with a goat tied to its roof and a chicken on my seat partner’s lap. For the next two months I worked and lived near a hospital on a missionary compound. She told me she would pray for me, gave me a way to contact her, and hugged me goodbye. By the time I returned to the bible college and then the United States, Barbara had become a spiritual mentor.

Fast forward three years and two cities. I was headed to Covenant Seminary in St. Louis and was looking for housing. Bruce and Barbara were about to begin visiting churches around the country to raise support to return to Malawi. They needed someone to stay with their high school daughter when they traveled. Arrangements were made, and I moved into their extra bedroom just after Christmas of 1999.

Barbara became my go to, first for all things St. Louis, and then all things seminary related. She helped me find a church, navigate west county, and figure out where to change my oil. But I began to learn more about this kind woman as I lived daily life with her. I learned that she had graduated with an MDiv, the degree I was pursuing. She had learned Greek in the short minutes she spent putting on her makeup every morning. She knew all the professors I was about to meet, mentored women at the seminary, and got better grades than many of the men in her classes. She loved to talk about theology and did so with a practicality and wisdom that went beyond my classes. We discussed issues like ecclesiology (the study of the church), and the Reformation, but she also taught me how to make a vinaigrette dressing from scratch, how to set a table well, and how to make everyone feel welcome when they came to her home.

When they returned to Africa, her section of their newsletter included a request that we, her prayer support, might ask God for more influence at a local school, that she might teach the Bible there to elementary students. Through years of patience, relationships, and prayer, that ministry spread to many schools and hundreds of children, with Barbara recruiting and training leaders to share the gospel weekly all across the city and outside Lilongwe. Eventually she and her husband were recruited to be those who cared pastorally for all the MTW missionaries in Africa, a role that fit her perfectly.

I only lived with Bruce and Barbara for about six months, but our friendship has continued for years. She is not flashy or showy. She never needed to be the life of the party but made sure everyone was comfortable at the party. She showed me what patience, kindness, and generosity looked like when circumstances changed and were out of her control. I watched her use her considerable gifts but not be arrogant or draw attention to herself while doing it. She was a real person, who forgot to buy milk at the store, got tired past 9 pm, and left her coffee cup in the microwave at least five times a day. I’m so glad I got to watch all of it.

The younger women in your life don’t necessarily need Amy Carmichael to wow them or Elizabeth Elliot to amaze them. They need you, in your everyday circumstances, being faithful, patient, and willing to serve where you are. Don’t be afraid to welcome them into your messy house, messy life, or unanswered questions. They don’t need all the answers. They need what I needed— to watch someone years ahead of them still fighting to love Jesus. I guarantee your impact will outweigh your investment.

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash