I’d love to have a discussion on where the ugly assumption comes from that missionaries shouldn’t openly have any fun. Do you know? If you do, I’d love to hear from you. I actually don’t consider myself a missionary; in fact, it’s not a term we use anymore to describe what we do. So, this blog is not so much about me, but about the thousands of missionaries out there who either daren’t let on that they do have fun or worse, they actually don’t! It’s probably going to get me into trouble, but I’m used to that.

Dictionary definition – Missionary:

 ‘A person sent by a church into an area to carry on evangelism or other activities, as education or hospital work.’

Here are some questions for us to consider:

The questions might not be the case for all missionaries, (I celebrate you if you’re free from them) but, for most, they are very applicable.

I wonder why the missionary can’t have a nice house that over looks the sea? I wonder why the missionary has to stay in the cheapest hotels? I wonder why the missionary has to drive a car that breaks down every other day? I wonder why the missionary can only go home to see family every two years? (It’s not quite as bad as that nowadays – thank the Lord).

As I’m writing, one word comes to mind – ‘fear’. I think it’s fear.

Most missionaries would say they knew in their hearts that they were commissioned by God to go on the mission field. They believe that God was asking them to go. Most go willingly. In 1998, it wasn’t like that for me! We were asked to go to a country that we didn’t even know where it was! I never dreamed of walking the savannah of Africa, I kind of got pushed! Pushed by God and I don’t regret it. When John and I were called missionaries back in 1998, we made a decision that we would make sure our guests, A. had a great experience and B. saw that we lived a good life. We paid for making such decisions.

One particular occasion that springs to mind, is the time we took a team on safari to see the beautiful animals of Tanzania. That day, I had just found out that we couldn’t go home for Christmas – this was for the second year running. I was very distraught – you can ask John how distraught I was! It wasn’t a good day to say one of the sentences a missionary never wants to hear you say:

“Oh it must be so wonderful to be a missionary, I wish I was one”

 I was speechless. I wish I’d have said, ‘OK, would you like to swap places? You’re going home in a week. You’ll be with your family, your friends and all that’s familiar. It wasn’t fair and I didn’t need to hear it. No missionary ever wants to hear it.

Back then, we were salaried and maybe it was easier for us to make those kinds of decisions. We took holidays in Mombasa, stayed in nice hotels whenever we travelled, well, that’s if there was a nice hotel. A visit to Uganda once proved it wasn’t always possible, but we did our best. We had a 6 and 7 year old. Why should they have to suffer because we’d shifted them from the first to the third world?

As I contemplate these things, I see two sides of a coin. One side (the missionary side) which says, if my supporters know that I do this or go there or live here, they will stop supporting me. The other side (the supporter side) says, I’m giving my money for him/her to save the universe and they’re spending it at the beach.

Both sides are wrong and I would like it to change. How can that change happen? Maybe we could start with the following:

A word to supporters:

Give, whoever it is your supporting, a break. How many nice things do you do with your family? Have you got a nice car, house? Did you go on vacation with your family this year? If you’re supporting a missionary personally, once the money leaves your hand, it’s theirs and you have to trust them with it. They will have to give an account for it, not you. If you see a photo on social media of them at the beach or doing something nice, celebrate it. Don’t be so small-minded. Wherever they are in the world, that is where they live and they should be free to have R & R. If that bothers you, then for goodness sake, stop supporting them. God is their source, not you – now the missionaries are panicking! When was the last time you gave them a word of encouragement? They would love to hear it. Why not send them something extra this month and tell them to go away for the weekend. It happens rarely – let’s start a revolution! (I don’t want any of our supporters to do anything for us, we’re fine, and we’re coming to the UK in 4 weeks. I’m standing up for others today! – I’ll talk to you about us next week! Haha! Just kidding)

A word to missionaries:

Chill out – literally if you need to. Go somewhere, take your kids somewhere nice, make good memories and don’t apologise for it. Don’t find the cheapest hotels so that’s what you can write on your newsletter. Splash out! Have fun. John 10:10 is for you too. God sent you to a place away from your friends, family, security and civilisation (depending on where you are). Don’t cheapen Him; don’t justify your existence so you can make your bulletins sound good to get more support. It’s tempting to do that – I know, but you’re just kidding yourself. Take regular time out. You’re no good to anyone if you’re burnt out. Let me just interject a word of warning, if you’re posting pictures of you at the beach every day, then you may need to find a different vocation, be wise too!

I know of missionaries who have put themselves out there and lost support. One lady sent a photo and letter to one of her supporters to say how much she was loving her new missionary life, the support stopped – how sad. I wonder how she was expecting her to live?

The missionaries who laid the tracks over a hundred years ago lived a different kind of life to the 21^st century missionary. Many of them never returned; they literally gave their lives. There was no Internet, no bank transfers, no furlough, no good medical care, no nice places to visit, no nice restaurants (that can be the same now depending on where you live). It’s not like that any more, so please, if you’re of the mind-set that missionaries should live a lesser life than you, change your mind-set, it’s about time it changed.

 

Ramada, Dar es Salaam, (I’m not scared – haha!!)