Within the first term overseas, many new missionaries to the field tell me they feel lost or even that they are failing. While I don’t consider myself a true ‘veteran missionary,’ after almost twelve years of watching missionary families come and go (I’d estimate we’ve said 60+ goodbyes), there are some easy patterns to spot.
We all arrive overseas with a picture in our minds of what we think life and ministry will be like. Some of us spent a decade in training to get here. We’ve read too many books to count, spent hours in conversation with current missionaries, attended Bible and missionary training schools, worked in different industries to gain experience to bring overseas, and learned new languages. We feel a deep sense of purpose and calling to our ministries.
So, what went wrong between those years of planning and the reality of finally living and ministering abroad? Why do we lose our patience with our family, struggle to make connections with local people, or experience difficulties in our ministry team? Why do we start to wonder if we are really cut out for all this?
That rocky beginning is incredibly common. It doesn’t mean you can’t make it overseas, but it does mean you probably need to revisit some of those pre-field expectations.
Think back to that mental picture of what you thought missions would be like. Maybe you imagined an open home, living in community with your neighbors, and quickly forming deep and meaningful relationships. Maybe you expected that people would be grateful recipients of your ministry. Maybe you expected you’d know where to buy eggs with a better than 2:3 fresh-to-rotten ratio.
We arrive on the field carrying visions and expectations of what a “real missionary” is. Often these visions are compounded by expectations, whether real or perceived, from our supporters, sending churches, family, and — crucially — ourselves.
I remember arriving in our town of service and feeling bewildered at all the high fences. How on earth was I to get to know my neighbors if I couldn’t even see into their front yard? And when I finally met a neighbor, they showed no interest in getting to know me. Looking back, I can’t blame the neighbors. In the previous four years the house we moved into had seen three other missionary families come and go. We were just another family of smiling, transitory westerners.
I struggled to find a place within the team and missions community as well. My language skills were still new, and I didn’t have the necessary years of experience living here to understand how relationships worked. I felt like a failure. I wasn’t sure I was really cut out for missionary service.
Around that time, a long-term missionary told me that it wasn’t unusual to need seven or eight years to really settle into life and ministry. Which was a shame, they said, as most missionaries leave after one or two terms, being right on the edge of finding their place. His advice mirrored my own experience in the end. It wasn’t until about the eight-year mark that I started to make real relationships with my neighbors and understand my ministry here.
But beyond just waiting until you’re a couple terms in, there is something else I wish I had understood in those troubled first years. The difficulties I experienced weren’t a sign that I was not cut out for missions; it was all just data. Just information to take in and use to make minor adjustments as needed.
When I hear myself saying things like, “These people are so difficult!” because someone is dragging their feet to do something I believe is necessary, or “They don’t appreciate all I’ve done for them!” when I’ve given and given and received nothing back, these are times to stop and think . . . what are these feelings and experiences telling me?
Maybe I’m not getting cooperation because of some relational or tribal/structural issue. Where do I see cooperation? How could I pivot? Whom could I approach for insight? And although appreciation is a nice gesture, it’s absolutely not to be expected in exchange for ministry. What is this feeling telling me about fundamental issues in my heart? Is this a sign that I need rest?
The good news is that all of this is within my power to do if I’m paying attention. Sometimes all we need is the stamina to continue. We don’t see the results we would like to, but that’s ok. We may just need more time on the ground. Other times, we need to take a step back and evaluate what the data is telling us.
In all likelihood, you aren’t failing. Don’t let discouragement get the better of you. If you’re in too thick and can’t see properly to evaluate for yourself, reach out for support. Sometimes all you need is a pair of fresh eyes.
We’re here for you, too. The A Life Overseas community is rich with experience and resources. So, don’t quit. You really can make it.
