Call of the Time

When I was a child my world was limited and same too with my responsibility.
Being a youngest the family life was not so demanding. Life was about play. Even when I was

a teen age girl life was so relax, as if I was walking at the middle of the road. But, when I started in college missionary calling to do something meaningful for me and others started to crap up

into my mind and heart. Family demand was visible for me. Much more when I started working missionary activity within and out side the church was so clear to me, in the school, in

the community, and in the family.

In the 1983, my mother got sick, she was bedridden for 3 months and gradually recovered.

She suffered by a lingering illness for 3 years. I stop working and nurse my mother in full time.

It was a privilege moment for me because not all children could take care their own parents.

In 1985 my mother died. I was left with my father who was i his aging years too. Five years after my father got married again to a widow, and in 2002 my father died at almost 90 years

of age. Today I have another missionary activity in the family which us to take care of my aged

step-mother. Life is call. A call to care. A call to love. It is continuous calling which also continues experiencing the blessing of God.