In my last post, I mentioned that there is a cost to saying “yes” to the missionary lifestyle. There is a sacrifice in the going, the doing, the being. Some missionaries claim that they “never made a sacrifice”. And if that is truly how they saw it, bully for them. But me? I haven’t been sanctified enough yet to say that. Not sure I ever will.
When I first signed up for this gig, I counted the cost. Moving away from a loving family, supportive friends, and a familiar home. Leaving my home culture and exchanging it for one in which I knew little to nothing. Moving from competence and productivity to a place with a new language that would reduce me to speaking like a toddler. Exchanging climate control for the equator. Sharing my house with jungle wildlife. Joining the scores before me that suddenly inhabited the “missionary pedestal”, in which one is expected to suddenly become holy and kind.
Then when I arrived I counted it all over again as I ran headlong into new sacrifices I had not previously considered. Constant knocks at the door requesting assistance. 80% of my belongings covered in fine mold. The inability to go anywhere anonymously. An eight hour drive to go grocery shopping. Not knowing how to do the most basic things like turn on my fridge or where to buy an onion. Feeling the need to communicate only joy and happiness to those I left at home, when I may have been willing to hop on the next plane to leave.
If you’re familiar with my story, you know that the call to sacrifice continued—through months of illness, a cancer diagnosis, and more months of illness. See-sawing between fear and determination in my decision to return here. Pouring into relationships, some of which have grown and others that have fizzled out. Fighting for patients, many of which have died. Starting new projects, resuming old ones. Continuing to answer the door to new requests, every day, with limited resources for response. Hopping between anxiety and hope at medical follow-ups. And returning again to say good-byes.
I wish I could say that after 29 months, I no longer think about these sacrifices. But I do. Many things that were once incredibly difficult about this life are now manageable. But they seem to be replaced with new sacrifices. Some days certain things weigh heavier than others. Right now the barrage of need at my doorstep coupled with my own weariness has been rough. Add in a dash of stolen cellphone, my desire to maintain reputation on the missionary pedestal of holiness, and some obnoxious comments from men on the road and you’ve got a recipe for disaster.
And that’s just what I am—a disaster! Someone completely sinful and incapable of loving people on my own. Someone who yearns for thank yous, recognition, and immediate results for work done. Someone struggling to believe the gospel, while trying to preach it to others. Someone who is tired and weary of the sacrifices.
And yet, there are two sides to every coin. With the sacrifices, comes joy and hope. Maybe not immediately. But the sacrifices are not made in vain. They reveal my true self—the one that is so far knocked off the missionary pedestal, you may have to search around for me on the ground. They make the joys of living here that much more extreme. A gift of bananas from a friend, a child saying “thank you”, a baby that got well, a friendly hello on the street, a reliable and self-motivated employee or a clear phone call back to the U.S. are all counted as great victories. The sacrifices make us yearn for the redemption that is coming—to this world, to this place.
I will never say that I never made a sacrifice. I’ll never say there was no cost involved in saying “yes” to going. And I won’t say that I don’t continue to count that cost regularly. What I will say is that I believe there is a value to the sacrifice, that it will be redeemed, and that it is not in vain. It hurts to say it but I am privileged to sacrifice.
“Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ.”
–Philippians 3:8
(This post was inspired by another blog post found here)
Oh my, I can relate. In the words of Meredith, "People think missionaries walk on air." Ha! But I love ya and Jesus loves ya! Miss you and praying for you today :)
ReplyDeleteDear one,
ReplyDeleteYour thoughts (perhaps verbal agonies) were so touching that I hope you don't mind the salutation. You know, there MUST be a cost to serving the LORD Jesus Christ because He promised there would be. ("In the world ye shall have tribulation, but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world." John 16:33b) And as William Jay taught (in his devotional Morning Exercises, this is only good news because Christ's victory over the world is also our victory. You have been through many trials and tribulations, and they may abate or they may continue - it is in His hands. (In my case, I'm comfortably ensconced with a livable income and a nice home in the U.S., but I have parents, my only sibling and many of my friends that think I'm at least a bit strange or at most, a fanatic, delusional man, because I believe in God and His only Son as the only way to escape the Judgment. The high pressure job I just left helped create and worsen my health problems and there are many times when I have to look at verses like John 6:68 to point me to my only hope ("Then Simon Peter answered him, Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life."))
I think that God gives certain persons (perhaps Hudson Taylor, William Carey and Amy Carmichael were among them) extra strength and perseverance so that they don't feel that they are making great sacrifices in their missionary efforts. But just as there were only a few "major" prophets in the Old Testament and there were only eleven plus one real apostles in the New Testament, I think that there are only a few people who can enter missionary work and not feel it to be a great sacrifice - i.e., a significant cost.
No doubt there are many fellow Christian strugglers (and none of us are sustained except by the dear Comforter, the Holy Spirit) who are praying for you and every Christian has the blessed Jesus as Intercessor prevailing on the Father of lights. You can know that His way is always best and not a hair of your head shall fall unless He allows it. And it is also so comforting to us to know that "There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape that ye may be able to bear it." (1 Corinthians 10:13)