After
a tumultuous disruption of his quiet evening by a bunch of unruly dwarves,
Bilbo Baggins is called upon to join them on a journey of great importance—to
rescue their people and their home. However, he also discovers that there is a
risk, deadly risk—a fire-breathing dragon, to be specific. Furthermore, this
grand quest would require upsetting his pleasant, predictable, and respectable
life. After considering the magnitude of the offer, he briefly loses consciousness,
following which he is seen sitting in his large, overstuffed chair and
discussing the situation with Gandalf:
Gandalf: You’ve been sitting quietly for
far too long. When did doilies and your mother’s dishes become so important to
you? . . . The world is not in your books and maps . . . it’s out there!
Bilbo: I can’t just go running off into
the blue . . . I’m a Baggins of Bag-End.
Gandalf: And you’re also a Took . . .
You’ll have a tale or two of your own to tell when you come back.
Bilbo: Can you promise that I will come
back?
Gandalf: No, but if you do you’ll not
be the same.
Bilbo: That’s what I thought.
This
scene haunts me. The grand but highly life-disrupting commands of Jesus inspire
us in our 20s, but somehow by our 30s and 40s the cost of those commands makes
us want to sink into a comfortable armchair and conjure up other less-costly
paths of obedience. How does a 22-year-old so passionate about reaching the
nations morph into a 48-year-old who cannot imagine living abroad for the King?
With so many well-attended conferences, frequently-read blogs, and well-written
books, why isn’t a higher percentage of the young Christian population actually
going? And for those of us who end up overseas, why do we so rapidly become
disenchanted with the work and begin to long for greener pastures?
In
our mid-20s, our good desires meet their first roadblocks, and we begin to feel
the weight of all that is working against us. We get our first real job, our
first real bills, and start to feel the weight of survival in a world of broken
health, car accidents, soaring insurance costs, and the uncertainties of
raising children. Along with the new stressors come new joys—having a nicer
car, a modest little house that we’ve painted and decorated, a few pieces of
new furniture. Before long, we develop some hobbies, get a comfortable circle
of friends, and fall into a predictable routine.
The path out of the Shire
is steep and treacherous.
As one who spent several years
waiting to go and now has lived full-time overseas for a number of years, I’ve
spent lots of time with folks preparing to go. This letter is a plea from my
heart to those with desire to work overseas but who have a few more months or
years ahead before that can become a reality. Below you will find some
practical tips that I hope might guard you on this journey.
1. Fight against the desire to put down roots. Don’t buy your dream car. Don’t buy
the nicest set of dishes. Buying stuff isn’t wrong, but you have to consider
the strong and subtle power that stuff can have over your heart.
2. Anticipate that a day will come when what you feel so strongly and are utterly
convinced of now may seem more like an overly-optimistic childhood dream. The
real world is hard—bodies break down, financial stresses are great, and simply
surviving in a real-world job can be all-consuming. People—good people—will try
to talk you out of going. Or they’ll try to talk you into doing something else.
You might feel guilty—there are people who need you here in the States. You
might begin to question whether you really had a “call” in the first place.
3. Don’t become so intellectual about the whole process that you talk yourself out
of obedience. We live in a generation of witty bloggers, inspiring authors,
great conferences, and encouraging podcasts. It’s easy to feel good about all
the information we are accumulating, the writing we are doing, the ideas and
authors we can talk about—but never get around to obeying the very commands
that we have exegeted ever so cleverly. The world doesn’t need more writers
making radical comments about Jesus from the local Starbucks; the world
needs people who humbly love and obey when it hurts.
4. Choose your church wisely. It is right, good, and necessary to prepare yourself
by being under excellent, Gospel-centered preaching. However, there is a
subtle, addictive power that comes with being part of a thriving, large,
well-developed assembly. You start to expect things to be done for you and get
used to readily available childcare—and feel that all of these good things are
necessary requirements for you to grow and thrive. There is a real benefit to
being part of a small, struggling group. You learn to live with and love people
who are not at all like you, get used to having all your heroic acts of service
taken for granted, and learn how to love people through conflict and confusion.
If you miss this opportunity, you may get overseas and feel that something is
terribly wrong with the people you are working with because there is conflict
or you find you can’t make it without all the props.
5. Prepare to go. Invest in it financially. Take a vision trip. If it’s going to
be several years before you can go, take several vision trips. Tell people your
plan—especially those who don’t agree with you. There’s nothing more helpful
than verbalizing your desires and motivations to someone who thinks you are
crazy.
6. Don’t wait for a final emotional revelation of God’s will. If you had a
lightning bolt experience, your future confidence would rest in that experience
rather than in the ultimate revelation of the risen Christ in the Word. If you
wait on your emotions to coordinate well, you will never go. Or if you get
there, you’ll never stay. Emotions change frequently—commands don’t.
7. Don’t wait until you’ve figured out the answer to all of your questions and
what-ifs. I’ve had multiple people say to me, “I can’t imagine raising kids in
a place like this.” You don’t have to imagine it. You have to follow Jesus. The
stunning provisions He will make will not be in your plans or imaginations.
You’ll only see them when you risk and move out in faith. There are facets of
His glory that can only be viewed when you press into impossible situations.
There is joy that you get to experience only when you jump into the messy
places, not knowing what will come of it but knowing He’s there.
8. Get the education you need—but don’t let it become your confidence. Having
marketable skills or theological training is often critical to establishing a
sustainable platform. However, there is a subtle over-confidence that degrees
can breed: “Now God can really use me because I’m so well prepared.” Humility
is far more valuable on the field than a PhD. Furthermore, for many of us from
the ME generation, there is an assumption that we should be able to be highly
fulfilled in our jobs and have opportunities to use all of our skills—and we
carry those assumptions with us overseas. When folks like us arrive on foreign
soil, we feel a compulsion to use those skills that we worked so hard to
develop for Him. It can be maddening to find that all of your supposed
qualifications are not valued in that place or culture. And it really tests why
you came in the first place. Is it to look impressive as you use your skills or
to further His Kingdom, however and whenever He wants it done? The truth is we
want Him to increase, but the reality is we want to increase, too.
9. Everything is going to fight against your going. It’s really hard to move a
person overseas—and even harder to move a family. We are wired to stay in our
hometowns with familiar places and people and language. So if you don’t have
intentionality, you won’t go. And if you assume that obstacles and challenges
mean His will for you has changed, you will not go.
10. It’s OK to lose your burden. Just keep obeying Jesus. He still has a burden.
Jesus didn’t tell His disciples to wait for a burden—He told them to wait for
the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit propelled Peter and the others out into
Jerusalem and then to the uttermost parts of the earth—they didn’t have a
missions conference or inspiring book or an engaging speaker. So why do you so
often hear folks determining whether or not to go based on a burden? Where does
the Bible talk about having a burden? Jesus has a burden for you. Obey Him. Go
where there’s little light. Go where you see Him giving you preparation. Go to
where there’s an open door. But GO!
My
Bilbo Baggins allusion breaks down here. After that fateful fireside
conversation, Bilbo’s mind and heart are captivated by this grand, exciting,
deeply meaningful quest to rescue people. He is compelled by the glory of the
work to get out of bed and join the journey. Don’t do what he did. Don’t
attempt to sustain your soul on the cheese puff diet of the excitement and
apparent glory of mission work. It won’t sustain you in the tough places. Look
at Isaiah. As much as we dramatize his Isaiah 6 “missionary call” to go, that
call is immediately followed by a description of apparent ministry failure. “Go
. . . to people who will reject you and make their hearts harder and blinder.”
“How long, Lord?” “Until everything is destroyed and devastated.” Inspiring,
isn’t it? (There is a dearth of missionary songs about this portion of
Scripture, by the way.)
God
is clearly not attempting to recruit Isaiah based on the “wow” factor of the
work. He compels him based on the “wow” factor of His holiness. He alone is
truly holy, separate, unique, one-of-a-kind, utterly distinct in his beauty and
perfections. The weight of His glory overflows and floods the earth with
meaning. Yes, He offers Isaiah a life of shame and rejection; yet, He secures
Isaiah in His love and lasting honor. Yes, God sets forth work that feels like
waste and worthlessness; and yet, He brings Isaiah into His worthiness. Beneath
and between every exhausting day ahead, there will be the exhilaration of the
King’s unending grace and embrace.
Perhaps
the most shocking thing about this whole passage is that Isaiah goes for it. We
don’t know what he left behind, but the “dishes and doilies” Isaiah once held
onto fell from view at the sight of his Savior. His vision of the Messiah and
His world-wide work is still stunning. “Behold, you shall call a nation that
you do not know, and a nation that did not know you shall run to you, because
of the Lord your God, and of the Holy One of Israel, for he has glorified you”
(Isaiah 55:5).
Blessings
to you as you dream and prepare and follow Him!
-Rachel
(Published in Fall and Christmas 2019, Frontline Missions
International Newsletter)
