stories of the Mix family lovin' the country life

Our Family History

My honey grew up about a mile away from our house. His father lived in this town, and his grandfather, and his great-grandfather, and—I don't really know how far back the Mix family has lived in our country town. I think it's really special to have a heritage like that. Some of the Mix family, our relatives, still raise cattle on some of the original farm land from generations ago. How awesome is that! Once a year, we still get together with all the different branches of the family and reconnect with each other. I married into an amazing family!

My parents went to Russia when I was eleven years old. Being the oldest of five children, I was the first one to leave Russia to go to college. I lived there long enough to learn the language and see how much we Americans take for granted. I absolutely loved being in Russia. I always thought I would go back and be a missionary myself, but God had other plans for me. A friend of mine showed me this poem a while back, and it is so helpful to me. It reminds me to keep my focus on the job God has given me and not wish for someone else's work.

A Missionary's Vision

After marriage God called me to the mission field,
A little bundle needing all my care.
A disciple in touch with my life.
Obedient to all he hears.

Then came some more, all in a row.
Everywhere I went, six little arrows in tow.
God had to call me again to His mission field.
I answered, “To China, to Africa, to Israel, oh where?”
His voice was clear, soft and gentle.

My ministry arranged,
My child, you are to polish our arrows,
Preparing them for my call,
To spread my words of life for other nations to see.”

Lord,” I cried, “Loneliness surrounds my soul,
No other woman stands with me answering your call.”

The sacrifice is great.
Women give way to another's voice,
Pulling them away from their home,
Far from the quiver, full of dust.”
Once more I pleaded, "May I go too, Lord?"
I feel the call to share with the lost life-giving words,
To feed the hungry a satisfying meal."

"My child," Jesus replied, "You share with your

Children salvation and truth.
Feed them meals under your roof.
Discipline them, train them and lie down at night
In peace, for sacrificial love you have given
To make the world better.

Arise in the morning, open my Book,

Teach them into my eyes they must look."
"Yes, Lord," I replied. "But should I serve you
In a more obvious way?"

"Child, my sweet child," God spoke once more.

"I anointed you to this work,
To the High Calling of Motherhood,
To show our children the need for my love."

"Lord," I sought out, still not fully convinced.

"Should I sew for those in thread-barren clothes,
A Dorcas, a Martha?"

"Sit at my feet, my child. Listen to me.

Your daughter needs dresses,
Your sons warm shirts,
The button of your husband's coat lies
Still on the table."

"Pick up your mantle, the rod of Aaron,

Lead women back to their home."

"Yes, Lord."

Filled and content, I took my position in
God's mission field.
Hungry faces graced my bedside.
Clothed in God's mantle around my shoulders,
Children at my side,
I prepared breakfast.

- Mrs. Paul Muller