Monthly Contributors – A Life Overseas |

How to Write Missionary Newsletters People Want to Read

Love them or hate them, missionary newsletters are an expected part of life in ministry. Maybe your newsletters are already great, and you would like a few tips on how to improve. Maybe you dread them so much that you would rather do anything else than write a newsletter. . . stand in line at a government office, go a night without electricity, get a root canal.

Either way, you’ll find something useful in this article. I’ve pulled together what I’ve learned about writing newsletters from over 20 years of experience, and I also crowdsourced our A Life Overseas Facebook community in January, so you’ll see advice here from others, too.

One note before I start: Remember that what I share here are not hard and fast rules. If you’ve got a method that gets you lots of reader engagement but differs from what you read here, no problem. This is general advice, not always-true-in-every-situation advice.

Feel free to add your thoughts or things I’ve missed in the comments. We’ve always got more to learn!

Regarding Content: What Should You Write About?

Don’t feel the need to report everything you’ve done since you last wrote. Do not write a list of activities unless you want your readers’ eyes to glaze over. Doing this is the best way to get your reader to “skim and delete.”

Do choose one story. Think over the last month or two, and choose one compelling story you could share. One fascinating conversation. One event that was a huge success. One event that was a colossal flop. One big lesson you learned. One big mistake you made. One person to pray for.

Tell this story as a story. Include dialogue. Include physical descriptions of the location, the temperature of the room, the smell of curry coming from the kitchen, or the way the sky looked that day.

Make it personal. This came up over and over again in our conversation on the A Life Overseas Facebook page. Your readers are way more interested in YOU than in your ministry. So when you tell your story, include your part – how you felt about it, what you learned, how you grew. And don’t leave out the bad and the ugly.

An idea: Have one close friend in mind when you write, and pretend you are writing just to that person. This will help you sound like you when you write. Hannah suggested, “I like newsletters that read like a message from a friend–an assumption that I know and care about the sender and people mentioned. I don’t like to read newsletters that feel formulated to manipulate me into a response.”

Other Content Tips:

Don’t apologize for the time that’s gone by since you last wrote. No one is sitting around wondering why you haven’t written. Drawing attention to this only serves to. . . draw attention to it.

Don’t assume your readers remember anything from your previous letters. (Hint: They probably don’t.) When you refer to places, events, people in your ministry, don’t assume your readers remember what you wrote two months ago. Write as if you are introducing them for the first time, every time.

Don’t start with a sermon or Bible lesson. If you want to share devotional writing (or your actual sermons), start a blog and post them there. Feel free to link to these in your newsletter. Valerie wrote, “I don’t like it when there’s a sermon first! Just tell me about your life, and don’t forget the kids!!!”

Do add a separate section about your kids. (Thanks, Valerie.) Hard fact of life: your readers might be more interested in your kids than your ministry. This is okay! The main purpose of newsletters is to build and strengthen relationships. Of course, don’t only write about your kids, but don’t neglect to include them (as long as your kids approve of what you share). Heck, maybe have them write your newsletter sometime!

Do add a separate “fun fact” or “cultural mishap” section. Christy suggested, “I put a “Lighter Side” anecdote at the end of every letter, recounting some humourous cross-cultural misadventure or amusing little-known fact. That’s really the only section people ever mention reading.”

One last tip: Don’t use AI to write it (please!) but use AI to edit it. Personally, I love Grammarly.

Regarding Length: How Long Should Your Newsletter Be?

One word: Short. Think short and then shorter.

That one story I mentioned above? It should be 5-8 paragraphs, max. Each paragraph should have no more than 2-4 sentences in it.

Don’t write long blocks of text with no paragraph breaks unless you really, really don’t want anyone to read it.

Do highlight in bold the most important sentence in each paragraph.

If you are an accomplished writer, you can go longer. If you hate writing or are a novice, just remember: less is more. Do not feel guilty about this.

My guess is that most of your readers will give your email newsletter one minute or less. That’s all you’ve got. Make it count.

Regarding Format: What Should It Look Like?

Do break your newsletter into sections, and give each section a title. MailChimp makes this easy (and the standard version is free!) For example: your one story/ministry update, kids’ update section, prayer request section, fun fact section.

Use color for headings and backgrounds when possible.

Remember that many of your readers will read your letter on their phones. Open your letter on your phone to make sure it is readable. Beware of side columns!

Do make your letters skimmable because. . . guess what? Most people will skim them. Bold the most important sentences. Make headlines interesting. Use bullet points for prayer requests.

After you’ve written your whole newsletter, read it over and pick out the most interesting phrase you’ve written. What line will most grab people’s attention? Use that as your newsletter title. (Hint: “Winter Update” is not it.)

Totally intimidated by format and design? The Good Story can create a gorgeous, customized MailChimp template for you. They can also evaluate a year’s worth of newsletters and coach you on improving them. Check them out.

Regarding Pictures: Are They Important?

In our Facebook discussion, everyone was unanimous: Pictures are great. Bring on the pictures!

Do use pictures to divide up your sections. Use photos with brief captions to highlight other activities not covered in your “one story.”

Don’t go overboard. Pictures are great, but keep it reasonable. Around 3-8 carefully chosen pictures per newsletter is probably about right.

A caution: Be sensitive to the privacy of the people in your pictures. A common solution is to blur or cover up the faces of locals in pictures. But maybe we should reconsider this option? Perhaps just ask for permission instead: “Can I share this picture with my friends and family?”

Marilyn Gardner suggested, “Either get permission or don’t post at all. Use words to describe the gathering. It is much more compelling [than] a lineup of a bunch of friends with eyes blotted out.” Carissa threw out a great idea: “Post pictures of hands, backs of heads, food, cups that were shared, empty chairs.” In other words, get creative when you take pictures!

Do learn how to remove EXIF data from your phone pictures to prevent them from appearing upside down in email newsletters.

Regarding Timing: How Often Should You Send Out Newsletters?

My crowdsourced Facebook discussion was quite divided on this. Some said monthly or every other month, and others said quarterly. Michele Phoenix polled her newsletter recipients, who told her that quarterly is sufficient.

Personally, I think quarterly newsletters should be the bare minimum, and only if you have other sources of communication. For example, if you regularly post on social media, send out annual Christmas cards, have a WhatsApp prayer group, or keep a blog updated, then you’re probably okay with quarterly newsletters.

However, your supporters and prayer warriors should hear from you more than four times per year, so if newsletters are your only source of communication, you should send them out monthly or at least every other month.

This is the part where I give you a stern lecture as an experienced former missionary and current missionary coach: Make communication a priority. No, really, like a big priority. Make a plan, schedule that plan on your calendar for the coming year, and then don’t let yourself procrastinate when your deadlines come along. You should never be tempted to start a newsletter with, “Sorry it’s been so long,” because it should never be so long!

Regarding Creativity: Mix It Up!

Give people choices. You should have a newsletter that goes out to everyone and their brother but also have a smaller newsletter list for your prayer warriors who hear from you weekly. Maybe use WhatsApp or Signal (more secure than WhatsApp) for this. Maybe use a private Facebook group. Maybe use PrayerVine.

Epistle is an excellent option. It’s part blog, part newsletter, and super easy to use. Check it out!

Jennings wrote, “We started sending out an (almost) weekly “Photo Friday,” with one or two photos and a minimum of text. People have loved that.”

Ensure you periodically give people an option to unsubscribe. If you use MailChimp or Epistle, this option is always there, but if you don’t, include a note annually that allows people to bow out of your letter graciously.

Consider doing a (5-minute max) video sometimes.

Offer something of value to your readers! Share a link to a book, a song, a recipe, or a meaningful quote. Add a blurb explaining why you recommend it.

In turn, encourage interaction! Ask readers to respond to your letter with a favorite book, song, or recipe, or ask a fun “getting to know you” question. Liz wrote, “Interactive letters stand out! When you see someone asking about the reader or asking the reader to share something, it feels more like a partnership.”

Consider doing a paper newsletter once a year. Nowadays, getting something in your actual mailbox is way more special than getting something in your email mailbox.

Work within your strengths. What kind of communication do you do best? You don’t need to do everything. Choose a couple of communication channels (probably more than one) and focus on refining those. Be disciplined! Make it happen! You can do this! Did I tell you to make communication a priority? Well, I’m telling you again.

I’m going to end with this great advice from Christy. Remember that good communication goes both ways. She wrote, “I actually think what makes people more likely to read my newsletters is whether or not I’ve liked their baby pictures recently or sent condolences about their dad dying or commented on their kid’s college choice. Newsletters from friends are more important than newsletters from missionaries, and being a friend takes more than sending a newsletter.”

Amen to that.

* Image by G.C. from Pixabay

5 Reasons Our Short-Term Mission Trip Was Successful

This past June, my family collided our new life in California with our former life in Tanzania, where we had lived for 16 years, and took a team from our church on a short-term trip to our beloved Dar es Salaam. Altogether, we were a group of 24, most of them teens and young adults.

Of course, it wasn’t perfect. During the two weeks, the team experienced various stomach problems and strange rashes, some lost luggage, and a missing passport. But overall, it was the best short-term trip we’ve ever participated in (and there have been many). It only took us 20 years of life in missions to figure out what makes a short-term trip successful for both the team and the hosts!

The following five reflections are not the only way to have a successful STM, but they are what helped us. Similar principles could be applied to lots of different scenarios.

We all stayed in the same house.

It took some work to find, and it wasn’t the perfect location, but we managed to find an Airbnb big enough to host all 24 of us. A perk to this was that it was way cheaper than a hotel or guesthouse, but the most significant advantage was that the team experienced the joy of living in community.

We ate all our meals together; we played games together in the evenings; we trapped rats together. The team witnessed their leaders grumpy and exhausted, fighting for dependence on Christ’s strength. They got a real picture of what missionary life can look like.

Since Americans tend to be private, isolated, and emotionally guarded, living together gave our visitors a new perspective on how much of the world lives and a new delight in how God created us to live in interdependence.

Our ministry project targeted English speakers.

Like so many short-term mission trips, we put on a VBS-style day camp. But we intentionally targeted English speakers, which in Tanzania means middle-to-upper-class kids.

But wait! I hear the protests. Don’t poor kids need it more? Shouldn’t we focus our efforts on the most disadvantaged people?

Not if it means our love and message could be lost in translation or misinterpreted harmfully. Of course, putting on a Swahili-speaking camp could work if we had come alongside a local team of Swahili speakers. But we chose this target audience because we wanted our team to be able to interact meaningfully and personally with the kids. Since we only had five days with them, we wanted there to be as few cultural layers to worry about as possible.

No matter their economic status, we also knew this kind of camp would be a special blessing in a community where kids rarely get to go to camp–which is exactly what grateful parents told us.

We exposed the team to poverty and then followed up with exposure to high-quality poverty alleviation efforts.

We took the team to my friend’s house for a day, where she showed them how she cooks over charcoal in an outdoor kitchen, hauls water for cleaning and washing clothes by hand, and makes do with electricity from one solar panel. She showed us how high the flood waters come into her house each year and testified to trusting Christ despite the constant threat of losing everything.

Many on our team left that day with the restlessness to “do something.” So that same week, we took them to visit two Christ-centered ministries focused on holistic poverty alleviation. We discussed why these organizations were effective–and how we can help without hurting.

We arranged for the team to hear real-life stories from missionaries in diverse ministries, local believers whose lives have been changed by Jesus, and local ministry workers.

Each time we visited a ministry location, we asked to hear stories: the missionary’s call to service or the testimony of someone whose life had been changed as a result. We wanted the team to get a picture of the diversity of ministry taking place in Tanzania and hear about some of the extraordinary ways God is working there.

In addition, during several evenings, we invited guests to join us for dinner and then interviewed them. The team heard from an American missionary doctor, an African pastor’s wife whose husband died from brain cancer, a single female missionary, and a local Tanzanian who has devoted his life to evangelism in public schools.

Learning was the main focus of the trip.

From our very first orientation meeting, we described the trip’s purpose as “service-learning.” Yes, the team would be serving, and we set the expectation that they should look for ways to be living sacrifices. But we also explained that your short-term trip should be about you, and that’s not a bad thing.

We gave each team member a journal and encouraged them to use it. We limited phone access to about 30 minutes a day to reduce distractions and help us all be fully present. We encouraged the team to ask questions of everyone they met.

Over and over, we reminded each team member that if they had the heart of a learner, God would use this trip to change their perspective on culture, poverty, missions, how God works in the world, and how He could use them to be a part of His story.

When we returned to the States and debriefed the team, God showed us the beautiful fruit from our fourteen days together in Tanzania. Hearing these young people share how God opened their eyes to a new way of seeing the world was remarkable. That’s what I would call success.

One young man, Valden McEuen, gave me permission to share some of his reflections. Below are his words with some slight edits:

The way of life in Tanzania is much more difficult than even impoverished Americans experience. People don’t have access to commodities like we do. They have far less conveniences and resources which makes a first-world life so easy. But they work with what they do have and learn to make do. Compared to most Americans, they are much more self-sufficient because they have to be.

Simple things like cooking meals or repairing houses help to bring together families and neighbors, because they are all working together and serving to help one another.

The people there live a more present life. They aren’t caught up in whatever next best thing is coming or how they can become as comfortable as possible. America has become a very materialistic society. So many people have been raised in what I would call a rat race, which strives for rewards like an impressive job, popularity, and the accumulation of possessions. It’s been something that’s so ingrained in American culture that most people don’t even think about why they work to achieve these things. It’s just what we are supposed to do with our life.

But at what point does somebody really “have it made?” Where is the line drawn? It’s easy to fall into this lifestyle of amassing success and seeking comfort that we completely miss things that are far more important. Something I noticed coming back to the States is just how many things I own and how so many of them are not necessary to the quality of my life.

Especially for our brothers and sisters in faith in Dar es Salaam, they find that the Lord is their portion, and they lack nothing. Giving their lives to the Lord gives them such joy amidst such hardship. They live to glorify our God rather than seeking glory or personal enjoyment in a life of comfort and complacency. Their culture has really changed my outlook on American life as a whole and my personal life.

Have you led or hosted a successful short-term mission trip this summer? Share your reflections in the comments.

Podcasts, Anyone? Let’s Serve Up a Smorgasbord

Some people scroll Facebook. Some YouTube. Some TikTok (at least for now). Some spend their online time on Pinterest or X or Insta or IG or Gram—and I’m going to stop there, before I pull a muscle.

If you can’t tell already, I’m not a big consumer of social media, but I do have go-to sites of my own. Most mornings I call up a collection of tabs for local, world, and Church news; sports updates; and several blogs. One site that I check daily is MinistryWatch, which helps readers make informed decisions about giving to Christian charities. A couple of weeks ago, MinistryWatch‘s editor, Warren Cole Smith, wrote about the recent online conversation concerning the drop in the number of American conservatives listening to NPR. He says that his “own experience reflects that change.”

“Part of the reason for these changes,” Smith writes, “is technological. The rise of podcasts means that we have a much wider variety of listening choices than we did even a decade ago. As recently as a few years ago, when I got in my car, I turned on the local NPR affiliate. Today, I plug in my iPhone and listen to a podcast.”

Some people listen to podcasts . . . but not me, at least not often. I have listened to season one of Serial (on NPR, oh, the irony) and The Rise and Fall of Mars Hill, but that’s mostly it. I don’t have an iPhone and my 2006 Honda CR-V doesn’t speak Bluetooth.

I know that many of you are fans of podcasts, though. So I’d like your help in crowdsourcing a list of them for your fellow ALO readers. What do you listen to? What podcasts do you tune in to to get your cross-cultural-worker information, insights, or inspiration? Maybe you host a podcast yourself. Let us know. Also, what podcasts not specifically in the cross-cultural-worker orbit do you follow—ones that tangentially speak into the CCW mindset and experience?

When giving podcast recommendations at his site, Smith notes the importance of moving beyond one’s own beaten path, writing, “If I am not careful, I’ll end up in an echo chamber of my own design.”

“[I]n media as in other areas of life,” he writes, “a balanced menu is the best approach.”

So let’s make our own menu. Normally, in a situation such as this, I’d prime the pump with my own ideas. But this time it’s all on you. I can slide in The Rise and Fall of Mars Hill for something tangential, but that’s really all I’ve got firsthand.

It’s up to you to provide your suggestions (with links or platforms if you have them) in the comments. Feel free to provide descriptions or plugs or caveats, but those aren’t necessary. My part is that I’ll compile the titles alphabetically into a list here in this post. I’m calling it simply “A Menu of Podcasts Recommended by Fellow ALOers.”

Thanks in advance, and bon appétit!

A Menu of Podcasts Recommended by Fellow ALOers:

[Warren Cole Smith, “Editor’s Notebook: Listening in on the World,” MinistryWatch, April 12, 2024]

[photo by Gil Medina]

Those Wordless Bracelets Might Not Be Saying What You Think They’re Saying

You’ve got plans to hold a VBS this summer in a cross-cultural or overseas context, and you’re feeling the challenges: How do you communicate effectively with kids who don’t speak English? How do you come up with activities that you can fit into a suitcase? Maybe you’ve got a limited budget or time constraints. Yet you have a sincere desire for your team to share Jesus during your trip.

So maybe you are considering the classic go-to activity for sharing the gospel with kids from a different culture or language: the simple wordless bracelet.

You can order 12 kits for $5.99. They’re fun, they’re cute, and kids love them. Plus, the children now have a tangible reminder of the gospel, right there on their wrists, no language skills required. Perfect.

Maybe not so perfect. Sometimes cross-cultural communication is a lot more complicated than just a language barrier. This classic VBS activity might not be communicating what you think.

Before you put wordless bracelets into your cross-cultural VBS curriculum, take a moment to consider the following thoughts.

Many cultures in Asia, Africa, and South America have strong beliefs in the spirit world. In order to protect their children against evil spirits, they will often tie an amulet around their wrists. This will be a cloth, twine, or leather cord and may include a few beads.

So when a group of religious foreigners arrive in their country and put on a children’s program and start tying bracelets around the kids’ wrists that have spiritual meaning…..

Unfortunately, you may have just given those kids a new amulet.

Languages divide up colors differently. For example, in English, we have a word for red and a word for pink (not light red!). But we say light blue and dark blue. Other languages might use the same word for blue/green or red/orange. And when a person doesn’t have a word for different colors, he might not see them as different. This is fascinating stuff – and something we need to be aware of.

Other cultures assign different meanings to colors than we do. We may see green as representing growth. But in Indonesia, it’s associated with exorcism. In China, it can be associated with infidelity, and in South America it’s connected with death. White is correlated with purity in Western cultures, but in some Asian cultures, it’s a symbol of death. The children in your host culture may not understand the gospel story the way you intend to tell it if they are not making the same color associations.

Contemplate for a moment the implications of a missions team with lighter skin visiting a group of people with darker skin and telling them that black means sin and white means holiness.

The gospel presentation that goes along with wordless bracelets is grounded in a guilt/innocence paradigm, which may not be the best way for the message to make sense to the people you are trying to reach. If you are unfamiliar with what I am talking about here, check out this excellent 7 minute video on guilt/innocence, honor/shame, and fear/power worldviews.

I realize that this list might make you feel a little uncertain about not just wordless bracelets but your entire VBS program. Because if something as simple as a colorful craft might be communicating something different than what you intended, then what does that mean about all of your other activities? So if you are feeling that tension, great! That’s a good place to be. That’s where learning and growth start.

So what should you do?

Start with some research. In the time you have available, your team needs to learn all they can about the history, customs, worldviews, and religion of the people you will be visiting. Hofstede Insights is a great resource for this. Remember–don’t assume that what works in your own country will automatically translate to another culture.

Most importantly, before you set any plans in stone, run your entire program–teaching, activities, games, songs–past your missionary or local contact. Make it very clear that you want feedback and are open to change. Even better—if there is any way that a local person can do the teaching instead of someone on your team, make that happen! The best way for you to impact a community is to train others to do the program alongside you and then later—without you.

For more reading about short-term missions, check out these links:

Have you considered how Your Short-Term Trip Should Be About You (And That’s Not a Bad Thing)? Perhaps what God wants to do in you during this trip is more important than the service project you are taking overseas.

This one has a similar idea: 3 Quick Ways to Improve a Short-Term Missions Trip. How can you reframe your trip for maximum impact in your life and the team’s recipients?

Also, Sarita Hartz’s What to Do About Short-Term Missions provides a comprehensive list of ways to prevent your team from causing more harm than help overseas. And Short-Term Missions: Is the Price Tag Worth It? offers some thought-provoking insights on ensuring we are stewarding our resources well.

If you are an overseas worker who is hosting a team this year, then this one is for you: How to Host the Best-Ever Short-Term Team

Also, this excellent video series Helping Without Hurting in Short-Term Missions by the Chalmers Institute is extremely valuable for any church or organization that wants to prioritize short-term missions.

This is What Courage Looks Like

Sandy was raising support, and she was stuck. She had exhausted all of her contacts – friends, relatives, acquaintances. She had contacted all of the churches where she knew someone, and had reached out to dozens of other churches with no response. Yet she was still far away from that elusive 100% funding goal.

So she tried a different strategy. Each Sunday morning, she would pick out a church to attend – cold turkey – not knowing a solitary soul. She would show up at this church where she knew no one, look for a friendly face, strike up a conversation with this complete stranger, and ask if this person could connect her with a pastor or missions leader.

Sandy is an introvert. She is warm and confident but not the kind of person who especially enjoys entering new churches and striking up conversations with strangers. But she did it because she had to. She was determined to get to the country where God had called her and was ready to do whatever it took.

I was Sandy’s coach during her support-raising season. When she described this to me, my mouth gaped open and my eyes bugged out. All I knew was that I didn’t think I’d ever have the guts to do what she was doing, Sunday after Sunday. This took resolve. This took courage.

I thought about my own support-raising journey. My husband and I would “divide and conquer” in our support-raising tasks. I wrote the newsletters and thank-you notes; he wrote the sermons. He fixed the printer when I was about to throw it out the window. And having him by my side every time I entered a new church gave me a measure of security.

I coach many single missionary women who are raising support, and they don’t get to delegate these tasks. If they hate public speaking, they don’t have a spouse to pass that off to. If they aren’t good at technology, they still have to figure it out themselves. When their pitch is rejected, there isn’t a partner by their side to share the burden.

We laud the courage of single missionary women when they single-handedly figure out how to exterminate a rat invasion, stop the flood seeping into their house, or replace a blown-out tire. But we don’t often recognize the additional demands of everything they must do to build a support network on their own.

I realize that much of this could also apply to single men. However, I believe that single women often face unique challenges in earning others’ respect and attention – in foreign cultures, on their missionary teams, and in the churches of their home country.

As I walk with these women on their journey to the mission field, I brim with tremendous admiration for their grit, perseverance, and resiliency. The truth is, most of these women would love to be married with a family. For many of them, it’s their deepest heart’s desire. Yet they are steadfast in obedience while they trust the Lord with their futures.

This is what courage looks like.

Do you have a single female missionary in your life? Probably more than anyone else, they need advocates to raise their support. Maybe that could be you.

Mom and Dad, Thanks for Letting Us Go without Letting Go of Us

My wife and I wrote this “open letter” nearly 19 years ago, in honor of our parents and the parents of other cross-cultural workers. We originally published it in our newsletter after my father died (and I later posted it on my blog). Nineteen years is a long time, so I thought about updating it, but I’ve decided to leave it as it is, with one exception. Apropos of this time of year, I’ve added the line “Thank you for missing us when we miss holiday gatherings.” I hope this resonates with you and yours.

Dear Mom and Dad:

Thank you for raising us to know about God and his love for the world.

Thank you for letting us go without letting go of us.

Thank you for forgiving late birthday cards.

Thank you for praying for us.

Thank you for giving up time with your grandchildren.

Thank you for your e-mails and letters and calls.

Thank you for sending Barbie Dolls, Tic Tacs, Koolaid, socks, Reader’s Digests, and Lucky Charms cereal.

Thank you for your questions about our new home and work.

Thank you for being patient and understanding when we tell you how exciting it is to live in another part of the world.

Thank you for being patient and understanding when, two days later, we complain about living in that same place.

Thank you for not making us feel selfish for wanting to go. Sometimes we feel that way on our own.

Thank you for listening to our stories about people you’ll never meet with names you can’t pronounce.

Thank you for being our ambassadors.

Thank you for sending clippings from our hometown newspaper.

Thank you for telling us about our neighbors, classmates, and cousins—all the stories that don’t make the news.

Thank you for letting our brothers and sisters stand in for us when we’re too far away to do our part in the family. (They really should get their own letter.)

Thank you for missing us when we miss holiday gatherings.

Thank you for loving us.

Thank you for trusting Jesus to take care of us when you can’t.

Thank you for being proud of us. We are proud of you.

We chose to be a missionary family, not you, and we understand that our move has meant many sacrifices for you. You are not only a part of our family but an invaluable part of our team.

With all our love,

Your children

[photo by Brant Copen]

Dear Sending Church: We Need to Get the Parents of Missionaries on Board

My mom sits at her mom’s breakfast table, wailing and pleading. My grandmother sits opposite her, wailing and angry.

It is one of my earliest memories.

I’d never heard so much emotion out of either of them, and the sunny little room encircled by cabinets of glassware suddenly felt tense, alarming, to my five-year-old soul.

My Gram struggled to accept that we were moving to Africa, so that day at her table was one of many tense conversations. In her anger that my mom was taking away her grandchildren, Gram even consulted a lawyer to see if she could sue for custody.

During our first two-year term in Liberia, we faithfully sent her letters and pictures. My mom tape-recorded my brother’s and my voices and mailed the cassettes off too. Gram didn’t call once during the entire two years. She didn’t send a single letter. Her anger and grief consumed her.

My grandmother never understood my parents’ love for Jesus, so their motivation to become missionaries didn’t make sense to her either. But unfortunately, her response wasn’t all that different from many parents who do share their children’s faith.

In Mobilizing Gen Z, Jolene Erlacher and Katy White quote the Future of Missions study from Barna: “Only 35 percent of engaged Christian parents of young adults say they would definitely encourage their child to serve in missions, while 25 percent are not open to the idea at all.”

They continue, “Career success and physical safety are the top concerns. Nearly half said, ‘I’d rather my child get a well-paying job than be a career missionary.’”

Reading this didn’t come as a surprise to me. I coach new missionaries as they are preparing to move overseas, so I hear their stories of conflict and heartache with parents who don’t approve. Keep in mind that this disapproval often comes from engaged Christian parents – people who have surrendered their lives to Christ, who are hearing the Word of God preached every Sunday. So what is happening here?

Maybe we’ve all just become a lot more fearful in the last few years. Maybe churches have let their missions programs fade away. Maybe Christians have latched on to the idea that two-week stints are all that’s needed for transformative ministry.

I hear many people protest that our own country has its own share of problems, so shouldn’t we narrow our focus here? And that’s true – but we also have churches on every corner. Have we forgotten that almost half of the world’s population has little or no access to the gospel of Jesus Christ? Will we remember that Christ’s final command to His followers was to disciple the nations?

When every book tells us to live our best life now, when every advertisement whispers that we need more, deserve more, it’s easy to believe that this life is about our personal fulfillment. We forget that there has always been a cost to the gospel, and that cost might include our most significant treasures. Our comfort. Our dreams. Our children. Or perhaps even more gut-wrenching – our grandchildren.

My own children are nearing adulthood, and I am beginning to comprehend the depth of the grief I would feel if one of them lived across an ocean. I don’t want to minimize the engulfing sorrow I would experience if I had to watch my grandchildren grow up over Zoom calls.

The sacrifice of missions is real, it’s deep, it’s enduring. Those who leave feel it acutely, but sometimes we forget that those who are left behind feel it just as much.

The sacrifices only make sense in the light of eternity. Do we have the faith to believe that Christ is worth it?

Churches are often good at inspiring young people with a fresh vision for the Great Commission, sparking in them a passion for bringing the gospel to the ends of the earth. We send our students to Urbana and Cross Con; we sponsor them on short-term trips.

Yet I can’t help but wonder: How many young people have felt convicted to pursue career missions but can’t find the courage to devastate their God-fearing parents?

So while we exhort our young people to serve God wherever He calls them in the world, let’s also rally their parents to be their biggest cheerleaders, to open their hands and release their fears and their dreams to the One who sacrificed His own Son so that we might be redeemed.

And when we celebrate and send out new missionaries, let us also remember the pain of their parents. They need our special attention, a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on. They need the church to be their surrogate family when their own is ten thousand miles away. They need us to give them the vision of how their sacrifice is an equal part of the Great Commission. Our Savior is worth it.

Resources for parents of missionaries:
A book: Missionary Mama’s Survival Guide: Compassionate Help for the Mothers of Cross-Cultural Workers by Tori Havercamp
A website: Parents of Goers
An article: Senders Make Sacrifices Too
A ministry: Parents of Missionaries Ministry

Photo from Dobrila Vignjevic

For Those of Us Who Aren’t Fluent in a Second Language, Even in Our Dreams

I’ve heard it’s the holy grail of fluency: dreaming in your target language—walking around in your dream world, saying whatever you want to say and understanding everything that’s said. Sounds pretty cool.

Has that ever happened to me? Nope. I do sometimes dream that I’m back in Taiwan, but the people around me tend to say a lot of nonsense words, and when I open my mouth, I can only say the most basic of sentences. Sometimes I’m lost in the city, late for a meeting. I can’t remember the address of where I’m headed, can’t find the subway station, and have no money for a cab. It’s the cross-cultural equivalent of dreaming that I’m standing in my high school’s hallway, finding out I have a test I haven’t studied for and not knowing my locker combination. Oh yeah, and when I look down I’m not wearing pants. I think my dreams have found me pantsless on the streets of Taiwan a few times, too.

Or what about daydreaming about complete fluency, gleefully imagining the moment you take your seat as a translator for the UN? That, too, is a nope for me.

If your dreams are filled with fluent encounters in a second (or third or fourth) language, if language learning is your forte, if it’s as easy as ah, bay, tsay, or if it’s simply a piece of gâteau, this post probably isn’t for you.

But if your language learning has been a struggle, if you’re disappointed in your progress, or if you’ve reached a wall with no door in sight, read on. . . .

Before moving overseas, I’d earned a degree in English and considered myself a good communicator. I was a student of a language already, after all, and I thought picking up another one wouldn’t be too hard. But that’s not how it worked for me as I studied in Taipei. It was slow, difficult, and slow. After I’d worked on Chinese for several months, a more newly arrived, and much younger, cross-cultural worker at our school asked me how long I’d studied for one of the unit exams. He wanted to make sure that he didn’t waste too much time. I told him I hadn’t spent more than a few weeks reviewing. Oh, he said. He was hoping it wouldn’t take him more than a few days.

That was hard to swallow, but he didn’t mean to criticize me. Others weren’t so indirect, though. There was the cab driver who pointed out that my wife’s Chinese was better than mine and a Taiwanese acquaintance in a coffeeshop who overheard another foreigner speaking and said something like, “Now her Chinese is good.” Of course, the voice inside my head was even less gracious when comparing me to others. By “others” I mostly mean other foreigners. I figured I’d never speak like a local, but I was disappointed that I couldn’t reach the level of so many Chinese learners around me.

There was also our landlord who wasn’t very patient in her communication with us, especially over the phone. And there was the man I met on the street, whom I came to think of as a friend. But one day he became angry with me, complaining about my inability to understand what he was saying, stopping just short of accusing me of misrepresenting myself when we first talked.

And there was the helpful official who had me address an envelope to myself so he could mail a document to me. I had studiously practiced writing the characters in anticipation of such an opportunity, but when the letter arrived, he had rewritten it. He wanted to make sure it was legible so that the document would actually make it to our house.

Sometimes I could laugh at my mistakes, such as in low-stakes adventures ordering at McDonald’s, and when I called myself a bicycle instead of a missionary. (It helped that a friend said she’d done the very same thing.) But it’s easier to laugh when the mistakes seem like silly aberrations, rather than everyday occurrences. Those are the things we laugh about with others. It’s not so fun to be laughed at.

As with many language learners, it was easy for me to fall into the trap of simply agreeing with whatever was said to me, thinking I could figure out the meaning later. One day I was talking with the director of our language school to set up a one-session introductory language class for a group of college students visiting from the States. We were standing in the office surrounded by teachers at their desks—a group of people I really wanted to impress. She asked me a question that I only partially understood. Yes, I said. She asked me again. Yes, I said. She asked me again. Yes. But it wasn’t a yes-or-no question. The teachers laughed, the way I’ve laughed when hearing someone unskilled in English do the same thing.

There were some times when I did feel pretty good about my communication skills. It was fun to get a reaction from people who were amazed that someone who looked like me could say “Hello” in their language. And I was never more fluent than when groups from the States came to visit. For all they knew, my Chinese was flawless. And from time to time I’d have a deep, meaningful conversation with a national where my vocabulary didn’t fail me. That helped a lot. There were even times when I truly believed those who encouraged and complimented me. But mostly I was reminded of my limitations.

It wasn’t for a lack of trying on my part, though I now wish I’d tried ~~harder~~ ~~smarter~~ better. I’ve recently learned about the difference between fixed and growth mindsets, and if I could have a do over, I’d like to start with a mindset adjustment. Someone with a fixed mindset believes that talent is mostly innate. Either you’re born with it or not. Someone with a growth mindset believes you can increase your talent with effort and practice. There are a couple ways a fixed mindset can hinder you. One is when you believe you’ll never be good at something, so you don’t try. Another is when you think you are good at it, but avoid challenging yourself for fear you might fail and show others, and yourself, that you’re not what you think you are. As much as I want to have a growth mindset, I see how my tendencies point to the fixed end of that spectrum.

But I see a limit to the growth mindset, too. So if I could start over, or start again, I’d also want to develop a more complete understanding of who I am. While I shouldn’t give up improving myself, I don’t believe it’s true that “you can do anything you put your mind to.” There are just things I’m not going to achieve in this lifetime, whether because of my inner makeup or outside circumstances. I’m still working on being more comfortable, as they say, in my own skin. If I could do that, if I could try less to become more like the people around me and do a better job of trying to maximize who God has gifted me to be, then I think I wouldn’t wander around frantically nearly as much in the world of my dreams.

So how about you? Are you having a hard time with language learning? If so, I hope you’re able to continue to grow in your abilities. I hope that if you’re not thriving in your language acquisition, you’re able to keep on striving. And in your striving, I hope you’re given the time and space to do your best, or as close to that as you can get. When you struggle, I hope you can allow yourself to strive softer. And when your studies can’t take you any further and you fall short, I hope there’s still a place for you on your team and in the work you’re doing.

When encouragements are directed your way, I hope you can trust them. When others point out where you’re lacking, I hope you know you’re not alone.

And finally, when you move about in your dreams, if you feel lost and can’t understand what people are saying to you, I hope you run into some extremely kind people who make sure you get where you want to go, even if they have to use hand gestures for you to understand them. And if they’re extremely, extremely kind, they might even help you buy some pants.

[photo: “Sunny Spot of Greenery,” by Timothy Krause, used under a Creative Commons license]

Your Short-Term Trip Should Be About You (and that’s not a bad thing)

It’s kind of a short-term mission trip mantra: “This trip shouldn’t be about you. It’s about the people you are serving.”

I’m here to flip that on its head: This trip isn’t mostly about the people you are serving. It actually should be primarily about you.

And that’s not a bad thing. Stick with me here; don’t write me off yet.

Let’s start with the second part: this trip is not about the people you are serving.

There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to come right out with it: if this trip were really about the people on the other side, then you would just take the $20,000 your team raised and send it to the missionaries or local pastors instead.

They could support the local economy by buying the supplies you are bringing. They could hire locals to build the house or paint the church – people who are likely desperate for work. They could pay for an expert to train the church members to run the VBS themselves (in the local language) and supplement the income of those church members who need to take time off of work to serve. And with the extra, they could support a local pastor. Or top up the deficit in their ministry account.

Of course, this doesn’t mean that your service is a waste of time. Certainly, God can use you to touch lives. But my point is this: it is unlikely that a team who doesn’t know the language or culture will be able to make a measurable impact in a foreign country in seven to ten days. Often, there are already people living in the country who could do the exact same ministry themselves if necessary. (I know there are exceptions, but that’s not what I’m talking about today.)

In spite of all this, I’m still a fan of short-term missions. This is not an anti-missions-trip article. Those are out there. This is not one of them.

So why do I still encourage these trips? Because I believe God can use them to transform lives. Not necessarily the lives of the people you are serving. But your life? Yes!

Because your short-term trip is actually about you.

Now, I need to clarify a couple of things here. You’ve all heard the horror stories of teams who complain, criticize, demand – the ones who make the trip about themselves in the nastiest of ways. We personally witnessed a team who thought it would be funny to make a bet as to who could go the most days without showering. (It was only funny to them.)

Your short-term missions trip isn’t camp or a vacation. You shouldn’t expect room service, predictable schedules, or familiar food. Expect to be uncomfortable. It’s not about your agenda. It’s not about your needs.

Most of us know this. Duh. Let’s move on. Most of us say, “That’s not me. I’m going to serve.”

That’s great, but there’s still a problem here. Sometimes, our attitude of serving can actually breed a different type of self-centeredness: the kind that feels really good and important with all the wonderful things we are doing. This kind of service puts me up here on this pedestal and the people I’m serving down there in the dust. They need me. They want me. They are so blessed by me.

This kind of serving can even masquerade as humility. It can say, “I need to do this for these people because they can’t possibly do it themselves. I wouldn’t want to ask them to help me, because this service is my gift to them.” Which is sort of a roundabout way of positioning myself as the hero of the story. Short-term missions trips, unfortunately, are really good at this.

As you can imagine, this kind of service usually does more harm than good (both for the servers and the recipients). So how do we avoid it?

Well, let’s reframe your trip.

Let’s make this trip less about you serving the local people and more about how God can use it to change you. Why would missionaries invite you to come if they know they don’t really need you for this ministry?

Because what they do need is your partnership. They need your encouragement, your fellowship, your questions, your interest in their host country. They need your financial support. They need you to go back home and champion their ministry to your church.

That last part is key. Maybe you thought you were interested in their ministry before, but once you see it for yourself, your perspective will be blasted wide open. It should be, if you let it.

Whether or not this happens is entirely dependent on your focus. Is this trip about you feeling good about yourself for serving? Or is it about humbly walking into a cross-cultural situation as a learner, with your hands and your heart open wide to how God wants to transform you?

Barna’s* study on short-term missions says this:

“As brothers and sisters in Christ, we are called to listen to each other, valuing and learning from the wisdom and experiences that God has given to each of us. Believers in the slums of Kenya understand God’s provision and sustaining presence in ways that many more affluent Christians do not. African-American brothers and sisters in Birmingham, Alabama, have much to teach Caucasian believers about suffering and forgiveness. But if short-term trips are built around ‘doing,’ accomplishing particular tasks and projects, they cannot create the time or safe space necessary for this type of listening and learning.”

So walk into a short-term trip with an open mind and an open heart, and ask yourself the following questions.

Will you allow God to use this trip to change the way you see those who live in poverty?
To challenge how sacrificially you give?
To reenergize how you pray?
To remodel how you spend your time?
To transform your priorities back home?
And finally, might God be calling you to fulfill the Great Commission overseas? If not, could He be calling you to personally advocate for these missionaries or their ministry?

Yes, one goal of your trip is to serve. By all means, go in with an attitude of dying to yourself and your comfort. Look for ways to love others well, and trust that God can use you to build His kingdom. But you must remember that the success of the long-term impact is entirely connected to your transformed life.

If you walk away from this trip and go back to your life and nothing changes, then this trip will be a waste. If you are not open to God transforming you, then don’t go – send the money instead. Because this trip is mainly about what God wants to do in you. Will you let Him?

* “A Field Guide to Better Short-Term Missions Trips,” a Barna Group Research Study

I highly recommend the Chalmers Center excellent book/video series “Helping Without Hurting in Short-Term Missions” (the videos are free online!)

I Coped Well in Transition…Until I Didn’t

I remember all the dogs at the Dar es Salaam airport. Usually people don’t travel internationally with their pets, but in the spring of 2020, nothing was normal. The dogs were restless in their cages, but the rest of us stood unusually still, tense, our faces strained from lack of sleep, frantic packing, a thousand unknowns.

I remember the recorded British voice that politely reminded everyone every five minutes: It is not permissible to bring plastic bags into Tanzania. In a dark humor, I thought, How about infectious diseases?

Just a few days earlier, we got a call in the middle of the night telling us to book a flight as soon as possible. Many in our community were making the same decision, but it was even more significant for us. We had planned a year earlier to relocate to the States in the summer of 2020. So this early, frenzied departure meant leaving a life of sixteen years with no closure, no dignity, no RAFT.

The memories of these moments in March 2020 are sharp and vivid, as if they happened three days ago, not three years.

In the five days before our departure, I can picture myself lining up my kids’ baby shoes, carefully saved for so many years, and taking pictures of them before handing them off to a friend. I remember making broccoli beef for my last meal in the crock pot I’d owned for 12 years. I remember how our feet echoed on the empty marble floors of the Ramada hotel restaurant on the night before we left.

I could list thousands of tiny, minuscule details of those five days. My focus was razor-sharp. My emotions were not.

Other than a couple of bursts of despair or panic, I went numb during those five days. And then during the long, unpredictable journey to California. And then during the next three months when we lived like vagabonds, trying to hold together our jobs in Tanzania while applying for new ones in the States.

If you had asked me how I was doing, I would have told you I was okay. I wasn’t happy, and sometimes I was decidedly unhappy, but I didn’t fall into a depression. I got out of bed every morning. I wasn’t crying all of the time. I wasn’t having panic attacks. I wasn’t having nightmares. Well, not many.

I am task-oriented. I did what I needed to do. And big feelings were not on the agenda.

But I was not okay, and that fragility manifested in unexpected ways. Suddenly, I had an aversion to anyone outside my immediate family. I didn’t want to see anyone. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, even people I normally would have been thrilled to be with. (Pandemic restrictions made this easy.)

Another A Life Overseas writer asked me to be on a podcast of people who were evacuated because of the pandemic. A little voice in my head said, “You like things like this.” But a bigger, louder voice said, “No. No. NO. Not even an option.” The big voice didn’t give me a reason. It just bullied me into saying no.

I stopped writing. I went months where my mind was mostly devoid of anything to write about, even though it was usually the best way to process my feelings. It was like my emotions froze, and I became a robot.

I was trying to adapt to a new life, and I was restless and impatient. I wanted to feel productive and meaningful again. But I had no energy, no creativity, no mental space. I could only focus on what was directly in front of me. I was frustrated that I couldn’t do more, and I didn’t understand why I couldn’t. I thought I was fine. I knew I was sad, but I thought I was handling our transition well.

I wasn’t. Not really.

About a year and a half after our arrival, my brain and body decided to shut down, and I stopped sleeping for ten days. I finally got help. I told the urgent care doctor, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I know what anxiety feels like, but this is different. It’s like I’m on overload and can’t get my pulse to slow down.” That admission was the beginning of feeling better.

I’ve been back three years, and it’s taken me that long to figure out what was happening inside me during that first year and a half. I only see it now in hindsight.

There are times in life you know you’re a mess; the pain or the fear is big and consuming. Every moment of every day feels like a fight. (I’ve had seasons like that, and this wasn’t one of them.)

But other times, you don’t realize you’re in a fog. You are coping quite well. You are doing what you need to do. You don’t realize your soul is actually withering. Then one day, the sun breaks through the clouds and triggers a distant memory: Oh yes! This is what warmth feels like.

This is what it feels like to be creative, my mind brimming with ideas.
This is what it’s like to live without a constant sense of being overwhelmed.
This is what it feels like to be happy.

I didn’t recognize that I wasn’t doing well until I started to feel better, and to remember what it feels like to be fully alive.

Today, I love being with friends and meeting new ones. I’m doing seminars for small and large groups. I was a guest on a podcast. My brain comes up with way more things to write about than I have time to get them out.

I don’t think I anticipated the jarring effect the transition would have on my body, mind, and soul. Or that it would last as long as it did. Seeing this in myself has given me empathy for others around me who are in transition: the new parents, new empty-nesters, the immigrant. How can I show them grace? How can I help to bring light into their fog? How can I walk alongside them for as long as it takes, knowing it will probably take longer than anyone anticipated?

But also, I want to remember to give myself grace the next time. To be more patient with myself. To remember that some of the hardest parts of life must simply be faced a day at a time until they get better.

This morning at church, a song unearthed a sweet memory of Tanzania, and I cried. For what I left. For what I’ve missed. For what I’ve gained. For how far I’ve come.

Conversation: noun, “a turning with”

It’s been 22 years since my wife and I and our kids flew across the ocean to serve overseas. It’s been 12 years since we returned. Both moves had a profound impact on our lives, and both have taken quite a lot of processing. (Does the processing ever end?)

The debriefing that we participated in after our return, through Mission Training International, was instrumental in helping us relocate physically, emotionally, and spiritually. The couple who led our sessions, Steve and Gwen Smith, were the right people at the right time for us, and we dearly value the conversations we had with them. They listened to us, and they believed us.

Steve is the author of several books, including Soul Custody: Choosing to Care for the One and Only You and The Jesus Life: Eight Ways to Recover Authentic Christianity, and he and Gwen also blog at refresh renew restore. Not long after we came back to the States, in a post titled “The Power of a Spiritual Conversation,” Steve wrote,

[I]n the course of life’s seasons, we need to have spiritual conversations with people who are good listeners. Let me be clear here, most people are not good listeners. They listen for facts not feelings. They listen for what they hope to hear. They listen when it may not cost them something.

A spiritual conversation is a reciprocal dialogue between two people where thoughts, opinions and feelings are shared and received. It’s two-way. Not one way.

People who have gone through major transitions—and others who have encountered loss—need good listeners. Cross-cultural workers need good listeners. Cross-cultural workers need to be good listeners. But what is necessary to be someone who listens well, to be someone who nurtures spiritual conversations? How about compassion and empathy and comfort?

Following is a list of words that I associate with good listeners. We all know what the words mean, but we’ve become fairly complacent in using them. Therefore, as a way to jumpstart our thinking and to help us do a better job of living them out, I’m pairing them with the literal meanings from their origins (with the help of the Online Etymology Dictionary and other resources). My intent is not to “correct” their modern definitions but simply to give depth to what we already know.

For instance, today a companion is a friend or partner. But the word companion is formed from two parts that originally meant “with” and “bread.” So a companion was someone who shared a meal with another. Even now we understand the link between sharing food and sharing our hearts. Here’s what Steve says about companionship:

I wrote in The Jesus Life that spiritual conversations take place at the table where we eat our meals. . . . It’s never an intent when you ask someone for lunch–to share protein, carbs and water with someone. No, when you ask someone for lunch, you’re really meaning, “Hey, let’s get together so we can share what’s been going on in our lives. It’s been too long. How about next Tuesday at noon at the deli?” That’s the stuff of conversations where hearts connect and souls meet and people who are lonely become spiritual companions.

Now, here’s the rest of my list:

acknowledge: “to admit understanding or knowing”
from a blending of Old English on, “into,” and cnawan, “recognize,” with Middle English knowlechen “admit”

affirm: “to strengthen”
from Latin ad, “to,” plus firmare, “make firm”

advocate: “someone called to help or plead”
Latin ad plus vocare, for “to” and “to call”

comfort: “to strengthen much”
Late Latin com, “very,” and fortis, “strong”

commiserate: “to lament with”
from Latin com, “with,” and miserari, “to feel pity”

communicate: “to make common”
from Latin commun, “common,” plus the verb suffix icare

companion: “eating partner”
Latin com, “with,” and panis, “bread, food”

compassion: “a suffering with”
Latin com and pati, meaning “with” and “to suffer”

concern: “a sifting” or “comprehension”
from Latin com, “with,” and cernere, “to sift”

confide: “to trust strongly”
Latin com plus fidere, meaning “very” and “to trust”

console: “to give much comfort or solace”
from Latin com, “very,” and solari, “to comfort”

contact: “to touch with”
from Latin com, “together,” and tangere, “to touch”

conversation: “a turning with”
Latin com, meaning “with,” and vertare, meaning “turn about”

empathy: “a feeling in”
Greek en and pathos, meaning “in” and “feeling”

encourage: “to add heart or bravery”
Old French en, “make, put in,” and corage, “heart, innermost feelings”

sympathy: “a feeling together”
Greek syn, “together,” plus pathos, “feeling”

understand: “to stand in the midst of”
Old English under, “between, among,” plus stand

May we better understand these ideas and, in so doing, better understand each other. May we put them into practice. May we have better conversations. May we all become better companions . . . and better listeners. And may you find the right people to listen to you.

A version of this post was originally published at ClearingCustoms.net.

(Steve Smith, “The Power of a Spiritual Conversation,” refresh renew restore, September 26, 2012)

[Photo by Ruth]

Send Us Your Photos . . . Yes, for Real

I got several responses to my post last month, “Photographers, Can You Do Us Cross-Cultural Bloggers a Favor?” One of my favorites is “We are debating whether your plea for more photos is an actual plea for more photos or if it was written with sarcasm in mind.”

I replied, “I’ll admit I wrote the post tongue in cheek. I was wanting to point out my own tendencies in photo selection as much as anyone else’s. But on the other hand, I meant it when I said we need more and better photos, so I’m happy that people are asking how they can contribute to the cause. I think it’s great that people with photographic skills are looking for ways to use their talents and creativity for A Life Overseas, and we’re brainstorming ways to help make that happen.”

Well, our brainstorming has led to a solution—a place for storing your pics (in Flickr) where they’ll be available to authors at A Life Overseas but not accessible by others.

So consider this an unambiguous plea: If you’d like to share your photos with us, please send them to alifeoverseasblog@gmail.com. (A maximum width/height of 1000 pixels should do.) By submitting your pics, you’re giving ALO writers permission to use them, but you’ll retain your copyright, and we’ll credit you when your photos appear. If you’d like, label your pics with any important information, and make sure you’re not sending us any images that shouldn’t be posted in public spaces.

Thanks to those who’ve already sent pics our way, to those who’ve asked about next steps, to those who’ve already taken photographs inspired by my suggestions, and to those who will continue to add to the collection. Thinking about all that makes me happy.

When I wrote my post, I wanted to think I could bring smiles to some faces. Your response is bringing a much bigger smile to mine.

[photo: “The Photographer,” by Nathan Rupert, used under a Creative Commons license]