I don’t feel like a hero today.

The missionaries that I read about pack their belongings in wooden caskets as they ship their goods overseas. They left on planes and boats, saying farewell to families and friends. They sacrificed everything…all for the cause of Christ.

Instead, I got choked up today. I drove our moving van out of our town, away from our little neighborhood. I hugged our friends and neighbors goodbye. I did relatively fine through it all…until I said goodbye to our dog.

Our golden retriever, Widgeon, has been with us longer than our kids. She came into our lives ten years ago. Widgeon was my hunting buddy, hiking companion, and loyal friend. She helped raise our three girls…letting each of the babies crawl over her, pull her ears, and attempt to ride her like a horse.

I handled the other goodbyes rather well until I said goodbye to her. It wasn’t so hard to sell our furniture. I didn’t mind giving away household belongings. It wasn’t too hard letting my books go. But it was hard on me to say goodbye to my old dog.

Why do I share this stupid story? (If you are not a dog-lover, you have no understanding of this story!) I guess I just wanted to show the human side of missionaries to people. As Nancy, the girls, and I have traveled to churches, sharing our call and passion for Moldova, we have seen people put us on pedestals, as if being a missionary is something special.

It isn’t.

We are just ordinary people, wresting with the call of God on our lives. Some days are victorious. Other days are struggles.

Too often we tend to forget that our leaders are human too. We forget that our pastors struggle when their children leave home. We fail to realize that our supervisors have days of discouragement too. We think that all missionaries cheerfully leave all behind. We are wrong.

I have yet to meet a pastor with a “S” on his shirt. I have yet to meet a missionary that didn’t hurt when his or her parent died. I have yet to meet a leader that did not face anxiety at the sickness of a child. Let’s look at people with eyes of understanding.

Take people off of the pedestals, allow them to be human, make mistakes…and still accept them.

I thought I was strong…until it came to my dog.

Andy and Nancy Raatz