My Missionary Mom

She was only 27 when she first set foot on Peruvian soil. She was immediately and forever in love with the Peruvian people.

Ever since she had made her consecration to God at the age of thirteen, she had harbored a desire to marry a missionary. She loved medicine, but she turned down nursing school to go to Bible School in Tupelo, Mississippi. There, she met her missionary-to-be.

Not long after they married, they started a home missions church in Douglas, Arizona, and in short order accepted to pastor the Apostolic congregation in neighboring Bisbee, AZ, as well. God had them in training, and it served them well when, a short time later, they received their appointment as foreign missionaries, made the long deputation circuit, and boarded a Boeing 707 for Lima, Peru.

When they arrived, they unpacked and dug in; they were home. Here to stay until God said otherwise.  And home it was; my older brother and I were soon joined by two more brothers, both born in Lima.

Sue Nix was the quintessential Missionary Wife and Mom. She was never happier than when she was in Peru. In fact, when circumstances of life led us to find ourselves once again in the US for  several years, she was lost, never quite at ease, never fitting in. What a relief and joy it was when – one day before I left the USA to return as a missionary to Peru – my parents were once again appointed as missionaries to Peru! They had come full circle, and they were ecstatic.

My mother (and father) always taught us that it was a privilege to serve as missionaries; in fact, they made sure we never felt otherwise. They made many sacrifices to ensure we were well cared for and lacking nothing that we needed. The daily family devotions helped us boys develop a relationship with God – and catch the vision of the mission, as well.

One of the things my mother was known to say in every missions service in which she participated was, "Please don't feel sorry for us – it is not a sacrifice to be a missionary; it's the greatest privilege imaginable!"

Mom loved missions so much, she wanted to die on the mission field. She procrastinated on a much-needed surgery that would have made her life much more comfortable, because – as she confided in me – she was afraid something might happen that would incapacitate her and would force them to return to the States. "I would rather die than keep Dad off the mission field," she said firmly. No argument would budge her.

She almost got her wish. She and Dad had just arrived back in the USA for a conference – and a belated and longed-for trip to Israel for their Golden Anniversary – when she was hospitalized with a bad cough and terrible weakness. The leukemia they found took only five weeks to take her life...in the US, not in her beloved Peru.

Faced with her death sentence, Mom was unhappy. Not because she was afraid; she was not – indeed, she shared with me that the realization that she would no longer need to undergo surgery was "exhilarating!" – but she didn't want to die because she "hadn't done anything for God."

Hadn't done anything for God...she only raised her four sons to be preachers of the Gospel. She only served faithfully by her preacher/missionary husband's side for almost 51 years. She only trained and influenced countless preachers'- and pastors' wives, not to mention scores of young people along the way. She only loved the Message of Acts 2:38 and Holiness unto the Lord so passionately that she "infected" countless others with that contagious Love.

She only prayed her son through the darkest hours of his life...over the course of eight years, as the darkness turned to blackness and the blackness to thick, utter, unseeing pain and grief. Her prayers were heard – and not just by God. Heaven was not alone in feeling her intercession...I felt it. I'll never forget it.

"Didn't do anything for God"? God help me do as much...

She left us with a smile and a cheerful "Bye-bye!" When asked where she was going, she grinned and said, "Home!"

She's finally found a better home than the mission field. And though I miss her dearly, I wouldn't bring her back for anything in this world.

Happy Mother's Day, Patricia Sue Nix...my Missionary Mom.  I love your memory. And I love the fact it's not just a memory; it's a hope. I'll see you soon.

Chau...nos vemos pronto.

Three weeks before she left us, our dear friend, Bro. Rob Ford, photographed them...