Since 2004 I have lived and studied and failed and succeeded in being a missionary. In 2013 I got married to a man who was born in Jamaica, but moved to the USA when he was 6. We dated, long distance, and then he went to Brazil and served with me, and married me in Brazil, and then we returned to the USA.
God called us both back to Brazil in 2015, and we started our family there—with my daughter being born in Brazil. Doing missions married in completely different from doing it single. Doing missions with children is different than without children. My daughter is a third culture kid—meaning that she is raised in a culture different than her parents, and in a sense, creates her own mixture of life with everything together. My husband is a TCK as well, and this year he has deepened my understanding of what it means to do missions.
I grew up reading missionary biographies and quite frankly, having missionaries on a pedestal. That is why it took me many years of doing missions before I felt "worthy" of calling myself a missionary. The thing is, there is no rule book, or at least I have not found it--and I sure have looked.
The missions group I work with has always felt that the ministry should be run and owned by the local leaders of the ministry. As an American going to Brazil as a missionary, I am not there to “bring Jesus” (Someone noted that He is too heavy), I am there to assist and train and love and learn and do life with Jesus who is already moving mountains there. My job, if done successfully, is to work myself out of a job. But I never realized how painful it can be to not be needed anymore.
One moment of time sticks out to me to illustrate this for you: I was at the home of a poor family with 9 daughters, and we were celebrating birthdays (which we do a lot of). I had brought a picnic, and we were sitting there laughing, when two strangers came up to us and started talking to me—asking if I was American, if I was famous, what I liked about the USA…I swallowed my annoyance, answered their questions quickly, and then turned back to the incredible birthday girl. I invited them to stay for our picnic, and soon they forgot about me, and saw the girls. They sang happy birthday with us. They later asked me how they could help out this needy family. My role wasn’t anything big—it was simply to divert the focus to where it belonged. To celebrate what was important.
My husband speaks better Portuguese than I do. He learned in a year what took me over 5 years. He studies for fun. He watches movies in Portuguese when I just want to relax. He plays Portuguese praise music in the car. He invites our Brazilian friends over ALL. THE. TIME. And I have been pushed outside my comfort zone to answer questions about what it really means to embrace and understand and learn a different culture. He reminds me that our relationships are not our job—they are a privilege and honor.
When you think about long lasting change, you think about relationships. It is those closest to us that actually ‘rub off’ on us. If you want to see who you will be in five years—look at those around you. At a wedding recently, there was music playing, and our daughter started dancing. Caid, with his impressive dancing skills, started twirling me around, and we didn’t stop for a couple songs. Some of my old students came up and said “You know? We want to be like you guys when we grow up.” And that is how missions works. You live life and Jesus shines and others see and want it too.
The two main things I know I need to do feel like an oxymoron—I am here, and doing life here means being here 100%. It is about reciprocal relationships. I am not just here to give—I need to be open to receiving. I NEED to receive as well. And just as much, I need to let go, to step back and let others succeed in leading. I also am physically leaving for a time as we are back in the States. My family is all in the USA, and so part of me is always lacking wherever I am. So how do I put down roots at the same time as (and teaching others to) use wings?
Missions, ministry, parenting, life is a constant balance, learning, and re-learning how to have roots (responsibility, deep relationships, commitment) and wings (letting go, change, discovery). Hope is like that oxymoron, having both wings and roots. Hope (in the Lord) is the balance.
So we come to a message of hope: Christmastime. Thousands of years the Jews hoped for the Messiah, and now for around two thousand years we look back, every year, at this Hope born in a manger. Wherever you are in your story: parenting, missions, ministry, single, let us stop to remember this hope that we have, and how it gives us roots and wings.
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