Sydney’s Story:
“Happy—smile. Sad—frown. Use the corresponding face with the corresponding emotion!” urges Meg Ryan’s character in the 1995 movie French Kiss. Though this iconic scene endeared Meg Ryan to me forever, it always left me wondering, What about when my emotions feel mixed up?
As we prepared to move overseas, my husband and I encountered a surprising mix of emotions. At first, we felt only excitement to serve God in another culture. Even before we had started dating, we had pursued cross-cultural ministry as eager young singles. In fact, we fell in love while attending missions conferences and trainings together.
After a year and a half of marriage, we deliberated on whether to start having kids before or after our departure for the field to serve as missionaries. Full of energy and anticipation, we decided, “Let’s just go! We’ll start a family later.”
But God had other plans. While we were in the middle of fundraising prior to our departure, we were shocked by a positive pregnancy test. Then something else unexpected happened. We shifted from excitement about going abroad to grief about the things our coming child would lose, like living far away from grandparents and our close-knit community of friends. This grief mingled with our ongoing excitement to serve God overseas.
Our community of friends shifted as we navigated fundraising and the approach of parenthood. Some friends disappeared when we started fundraising, whether from the awkwardness of requests for financial support or other circumstances. Other kind-hearted souls came alongside us, becoming dear friends and supporters. Former missionaries encouraged and counseled us. Current missionaries we met at training became new friends.
At the time, a friend named Rose didn’t understand our mix of emotions.
“You should be more excited about the ministry God has for you,” she said. Rose was single and not close to her own mother, so perhaps it was hard for her to imagine how we felt about separating our coming child from grandparents. “You’re not living in the joy of the Lord,” she added, hinting that our waning enthusiasm signaled a turning away from God.
My husband and I felt hurt. As we considered her words, we remembered that Job in the Bible was misunderstood and accused by his friends, too. Though we hadn’t experienced the deep heartache and loss Job had, we knew that God understood our emotions even when others didn’t. We mourned the loss of our rapport with Rose, but asked God to help us move forward.
For the next five years, we served God planting a church overseas, and the sense of loss for our children did not leave us. We continued to encounter those unacquainted with this flavor of grief—the grief of giving up our homeland, not just for ourselves, but for the little souls God was entrusting to us. Especially on birthdays and holidays, we felt guilty for depriving our children and our parents of a relationship God designed to bring mutual delight.
Those “holier” than us brushed our feelings aside, stating that the sacrifice would be worth it. Jesus did promise that those who left home, mothers, fathers and children for his kingdom would reap incredible rewards (Luke 18:28-30), so they spoke truth. Yet God is also a God of compassion, and our truth-speaking friends neglected to validate our God-given human emotions.
After five years of ministry overseas, including the Covid pandemic, we ended up back home in desperate need of counseling. Yes, the fruit of our labors was worth the sacrifices we had made. The church had grown exponentially, and we had taught and discipled so many young people hungry for the gospel and solid theology.
And yet … I can’t help but wonder, What if we were met with kindness and compassion in our times of grief? What if we all tried a little bit harder to understand those struggling, to sit with them in empathy? We knew our emotions were a complicated mix. Meg Ryan’s movie character had oversimplified her emoticons.
Transitioning back to life in the United States was difficult. We bounced from house to house, figuring out where we would live and how we would make a living. God provided a house, a car, jobs. After we answered these essential questions, we navigated the stresses of moving and building a new community of friends. In time, God helped us work through the disappointment about ways some of our brothers and sisters in Christ had failed to love and support us.
As I’ve emerged from the other side of serving God overseas, I’ve gained new empathy. My husband and I find it easy to say “Yes!” to friends raising funds to serve the Lord. We love to partner with workers in God’s kingdom.
We’ve also learned to see those in ministry as humans whom God empowers and works through. We are called to uphold them in prayer and to bear their burdens (Galatians 6:2), listening without judgment to their whole range of emotions.
Photo by Johnny Cohen on Unsplash
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About Serving God Cross-culturally: Staying in the Race and Coming Full Circle in Eastern Europe
