Rambling from an 18 year old Rose...
When I think of what I want from my life or the people I admire the Elliots and Christy and Lilias Trotter come to mind. All people who gave up so much to follow God. I have this romantic view of them, as if their life was one of glory. But it wasn't, it really wasn't.
I admire them, I admire the hard choices they made. They didn't know that their stories would become famous, that they would inspire thousands, millions even. I think a part of me wants the glory, the romanticized life. A bigger part of me wants it because I want to be brave like them. I want to be strong enough in my faith to make those tiny choices that all add up. I envy their faith. I envy that God chose to use them in that way. Which is crazy because they all went through so much. Elizabeth Elliot had two husbands and they both died. One of them murdered by the same people he came to serve. Her kids grew up without their dad. Christy gave up her life with the everyday comforts like running water to serve the mountain people. To serve them even though most of them couldn't care less about her. She had to watch one of the only good friends she made among the mountain folk die. Lilias Trotter lost her dad and then gave up her dream of becoming a world famous painter, one of the best painters in Europe at the time under the tutelage of the best artist in Europe to go out almost on her own to a desert to serve people without seeing in progress in her ministry. No churches, nothing.
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