It is Hard

Image by kalyanayahaluwo

Being a missionary was hard. The “other” of everything: the culture, the language, the being away from family. It was always putting me off balance. It felt hard to rest in it. But that pull, that “offness” also pushed me right into the arms of God. I saw so clearly how I couldn’t do it alone, how I didn’t want to do it alone. It was beautiful.

Now that I am gone, it is that “other” that I deeply miss. That at times, I long for with those rose-colored glasses of the past that soften the rough edges and leave us with that memory of tasting how good God was over and over, in so many tiny little ways.

Being a missionary back home is hard. There is none of the glory in that “other” of everything. There is no gloat of making it through the day…everyone makes it through the day. But I want to hold on to my missionary heart. I want to hold on to what I have learned and who I have become from that experience.

The “same” of everything: the culture, the language, the being close to family. It lulls me into safety and comfort. It dulls my senses as it blends into everything familiar and known. This culture gives me a million and one distractions to fall into and not even realize I’ve moved. It is so easy to rest. And this soft, comfortable bed with toasty covers whispers that I don’t need God, and things are just fine.

Am I willing to pray for that pull, that “offness” that pushes me into the arms of God? No, not really. How does one live like THAT, like THERE, in the THIS and the HERE?

I guess that is what I am trying to capture in this book I am working on about missions for families. What do I want to pass on to my kids about missions (the that and there) for the this and here? How do we bring that into this? What did I love about life then that I want to bring into the now? That I want to give to my kids?

*Velvet Ashes Retreat 2025