I am at the Kentucky Christian Writer’s Conference with my Nigeria Missionary Kid (MK) cousin, life-long friend and co-author with whom I write. We were saddened as we received word of the death of one of our Nigeria Missionary Kids last night. My memories of him and his family span nearly six decades.
Getting to know him as an adult has been a great source of encouragement and happiness. He was a thoughtful, kind, and generous man. We would see each other at our annual Nigeria Mission Reunion and pick up right where we left off the last time we saw each other. We kept up with each other on Facebook, and from time-to-time we would email about something or someone one.
As an MK, your mission family is very important to you. The missionaries who helped raise us, whom we call aunts and uncles, hold very special places in our hearts. They, along with our own parents, helped shape MKs into the men and women we are today. For those of us whose parents are no longer living, these missionary aunts and uncles love us as parents, are interested and excited about what we are doing, and are among our greatest cheerleaders, and, most importantly, they pray for us!
The bonds we MKs forged many years ago while in Nigeria are very strong and hold true even if decades of time pass between your interactions with each other. They are the ones who truly “get” who you are. They too had monkeys, baboons, snakes, and lizards for pets. The things that made MKs unique when we returned to The States were commonplace in our beloved Nigeria. While we call them our cousins, they are all really more like brothers and sisters, for on the mission field our lives were very closely entwined.
My Nigeria mission aunts, uncles, and cousins who knew Mom, Dad, and my brothers Paul and Tim, help keep their memories alive by retelling stories of their antics on the mission field, and here in The States.
Steven Logan was a dear MK cousin/brother! He lived his life to the fullest and had a wonderful sense of humor. He and I would laugh and say that our love language was “picking on each other!” He was one of the MKs who called and encouraged me following the deaths of my family members. The first reunion following my brother Tim’s death he hovered nearby and would often just come up and give me a hug without saying a word. The first reunion after my mom’s death, he walked into the room and made a bee-line for me and we shared a sweet cry and then laughed as he shared several fun stories about mom.
Proverbs 18:24 (ESV) came to mind as I thought about my precious friend: A man of many companions may come to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.
So, this morning, Philippians 1:3, seems appropriate as I think of Steven Logan: I thank my God in all my remembrance of you. Thank you Lord, for the gift of knowing and loving Steven, and for the incredible gift Steven gave as he loved me well!
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