We’re back with current need-to-know missions thoughts from around the web.
Remember our posts, What do you wish you’d known before you went? Parts I and II? Some great minds over at A Life Overseas have collaborated for Dear Missions, I Wish You Had Told Me…as well as 7 Questions to Ask during Your First 7 Days on the Field.
Personal conflict is a notorious bad actor splintering great work being done overseas. Too often, it lands once-starry-eyed global workers back in their home countries…wounded, bewildered, and even angry.
No one sets out on the field anticipating that broken relationships will take us under. But for a lot of global workers?
photo credit: IMB.org
I don’t even remember who said it to me. But I remember, as we sat in my African living room, their sentiment as we discussed culture questions floating on the top of our minds: “It’s not wrong. It’s just different,” he repeated over and over.
This is probably not a bad default position, particularly for those of use who have very defined ideas of right and wrong (enneagram 1’s or one-wings, or C’s on the DiSC profile, this might be you).
Say you’ve got a fundraising trip scheduled to an area with lots of personal contacts–but not that much time. Would it be better to have a large dinner or dessert? You could present to a church and ask them for members to support. You could present to a Sunday School class. Bada-bing, bada-boom. Done.
What’s the best option?
My family wrangled our carry-ons into that taupe-colored hum of a 757, bound for six months stateside. (After the lunacy of the week before, preparing to abscond for six entire months, I was just grateful to make it to the plane.)
I felt conflicted.
There was of course the sizeable slab of me that couldn’t wait to throw my arms around my parents, watch my kids grab the hands of with my nieces and nephews again. I was geared up to sit around a table with the people I’ve loved for a lifetime, just like that. Perhaps I would carry a dish of corn on the cob, say, to laugh at my sister’s jokes in crazy-easy normalcy. I hoped to devour a slightly unhealthy amount of blueberries and bing cherries in those months; to close my eyes over the quiet purr of a road devoid of potholes; to throw a few dishes in the dishwasher just because I could.
Ever lost a job?
Years ago, after a frequent series of layoffs in my company, the axe finally fell on me.
The identity issues were thick, hairy, and real. But for all I thought I was contributing, it was the first lesson of many for this overachiever: You are dispensable.
We know it. You know it. Heading overseas is this tornadic level of activity.
I remember fantasizing about the moment I’d finally click my seatbelt shut on that 757: At least–after finally checking our exactly-51-lb.-bags, shuttling four kids through security with every device we still owned, and waving goodbye to the posse of weeping family–I couldn’t do anything else for nine whole hours. (Um. Except entertain a toddler and keep him from driving the rest of the plane bonkers?)
We know: Sometimes you want so badly to be DONE with support-raising, for the love of Mike, that your prayers are confined to some version of ohpleaseohpleaseohplease help me find the money.
Don’t hate us for this? There’s a lot of richness to be found in this crazy, so-tired-I-could-sleep-on-an-African-bus journey.
So we want to give you something to hang your hat on–something to anchor your soul. We’ve given you 6 printable verses to encourage your support raising, so we’re taking the next natural step.
