Missionary House, A Mansion?

“It is more blessed to give than to receive.”

— Acts 20:35 (NIV)

There were days in the mission field when we quietly wondered, “Lord, how are we going to make it through the week?” August 15 was one of those days.

We had just returned from house-to-house visitation, completely exhausted. Under the scorching sun, we had walked around the community offering free blood pressure checks and foot massages. We also helped people beside the river, carrying soil and heavy gravel. By the time we returned home, our bodies were tired, our stomachs were empty, and our strength was almost gone. We had only one thing in mind: food and rest.

Our budget had always been limited. We were only three missionaries, but even then, we had to carefully manage what little we had. Sometimes, we ate only twice a day. The market was far from our mission field, and going there was not always an option because we did not have enough money to buy everything we needed. That evening, we cooked what was supposed to be enough for the three of us.

As we prepared dinner, we talked about how difficult things had become. We missed home. We missed having parents who prepared meals for us. We missed opening a refrigerator or cabinet without worrying about whether the food would last until the end of the week.

Honestly, we were frustrated. We were hungry, tired, and already thinking about how little we had. Then the children came. One by one, they entered our little house. At first, we thought they simply wanted to visit. But soon, they began looking at our food.

“What’s that, Ate?” ,“What does it taste like?” ,“Is it good?” Then we asked, “Have you eaten dinner?” “Not yet.” That question changed everything.

We knew our food was only enough for three people. We were already hungry. We had worked all day, and we were looking forward to finally eating a full meal. But looking at the children, we could not bring ourselves to keep the food for ourselves.

So we shared. We ate less so they could eat more. That night, we were still hungry—but the children were happy. And that became our new reality. They kept coming back—not only at dinner, but whenever we were home. Whatever food we had, we shared.

Sometimes, we would look at our nearly empty cabinets and wonder, “Lord, will this really be enough?” Then one evening, while the children were eating, one of them suddenly said, “I love coming to your house because there is always food here. We get to eat good food.” Then came the words that completely changed how we saw everything: “Your house is a mansion.” A mansion? I muttered. My partner and I looked around. It was a small house.

Our supplies were limited. Our cabinets were sometimes almost empty. We knew the struggles behind every meal. But to those children, it was a mansion. We saw scarcity, they saw abundance. We saw ordinary food, they saw a blessing. We saw a small house, they saw a home filled with love. That moment humbled us. We realized that perhaps the miracle was not that God suddenly gave us everything we wanted.

The miracle was that God taught us to see what we already had differently. So we prayed, “Lord, help us continue feeding these children.” And God provided. Our nearly empty cabinets slowly became filled with food and snacks. He opened opportunities for us to give the children clothes and other things they needed. What began with frustration and scarcity slowly turned into overflowing provision.

This experience taught me that abundance is simply having enough love to share what little we have. Our house never became bigger. But somehow, it became a mansion. Not because of what was inside the house, but because of what God allowed us to put inside it: love, generosity, faith, and His provision. And that is what a mansion really looks like in the eyes of God.

Name: Gracian Joles S. Besin

Mission Field: Togonon, Danao City, Cebu