Counting the Cost

“Christian missionary work is the most difficult thing in the world. It is surprising that it should ever have been attempted…” (Stephen Neill, Call to Missions. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1970, p. 24)

“I have found that there are three stages in every great work of God. First it is impossible. Then it is difficult. Then it is done.” (Hudson Taylor, pioneer missionary to China, founder of the China Inland Mission)

One thing I’ve been thinking about over the last couple of months is how many obstacles stand in the way of doing the things that seem most need to be done in terms of this whole task of world mission.

With each decision that comes down the pike, in the life of a would-be missionary for example, it seems perfectly reasonable to turn away or choose the other path, even if somehow they manage to get to "the field."

You want to reach people group X? Work with people group Y; then mobilize them to reach people group X (even though you may have been told that this is almost never an effective strategy).

Are people group X concentrated in city A? Well, it’s inevitable that city B is going to be a much better place for your family to live. And being in city B, it’s only natural that you end up working with and making friends with your neighbors, students/employees, or employers, who are part of people groups Y and Z - much more congenial and responsive groups anyway.

And, as excited as you may have been about going into “full-time ministry,” depending on the nature of the job you hold, you may find yourself with less time for “ministry” than you had when you were still in your own country. Reaching out to people group X may be your stated goal, but there’s every reason for your life to fill up with all kinds of other relationships and activities until in practice, it’s only a hobby you pick up when circumstances allow.

No wonder the things that “most need to be done” stay that way.

And really, staying on the field – living in another culture – is pretty tough. Physically, mentally, and emotionally, it will take the wind out of your sails pretty fast. When you look at how little measurable difference you can make, and how much it costs you and the people who care about you, just to get past the initial hurdles, it just doesn’t seem worth it.

A good friend of mine just returned to her host country after a visit to the States. I happened to send her an email that reached her the day after she arrived. My friend is the type who seems “made for” the kind of work she has sent out to do. But she hasn’t been on the field very long, and it's slow going. The shock of re-entry was hitting her hard when she got my email and answered it. She was feeling the cost of her commitment keenly.

“Saying goodbye to [the family] was painful. No one knows when they'll see us again and it could be 1-2 years for all of them. M. doesn't know Jesus and I know if I lived there they would go to church with us, she would study the Bible with me, and [her daughter] could grow up knowing Jesus... [I find myself asking,] ‘How can I choose Muslims on the other side of the world over my own family?

"Are we really called? Am I making daily choices that make it worth it? If I'm not useful for the Kingdom of God here... it is not worth it.’

“Plus our health has suffered tremendously already. We have some major lifestyle changes to make if we're going to survive this. You would think [country] would be an easy place to live relatively, but it's all just whitewashed...”

Another woman, one of the subscribers to our e-magazine, answered an invitation to send in prayer requests with this rather heart-rending missive:

“I get your newsletter because I am very interested in finishing the task. Missions has been one of my primary concerns for many years. I got my minor at the Christian college I went to along with my major in nursing so I could (very specifically ) attend to the business of the gospel in [country]. I did just that for years. I started three clinics… I worked with widows and orphans…I spent all my money and all my time pouring it all into ministry. I didn't mind, or for a long time consider, the sacrifice. I got sick many times living among the absolute poverty and squalor.

“[Then] I had a life-changing infection. When I had to come home for six months of bed rest, I told my parents I was either going to die of it OR go back. In their own way, they were happy that I got to go back, for obvious reasons. I (thankfully) couldn't see far [enough] down the road to know the long-term implications… Now I take about 30 pills a day, and a pacemaker that manages 80% of my cardiac rhythms. It continues to fail. I may have to face the option of a mechanical heart or a transplant if this continues. I am terrified.

“I am not nearly as confident encouraging people to go into missions. Unless, they are really willing to die for it, I wouldn't necessarily suggest it. My walk with the Lord is hard and living life day to day is more of a challenge than I ever thought it would be.

"Not to mention, I am so far in debt to medical expenses that I can't even financially support missions any more.

"I always thought then I could at least pray, but after years like this, it really feels as though God does not hear my prayers anymore. I would appreciate your prayers.

"This certainly feels like the valley of the shadow of (imminent) death, but it often does not feel like God is with me at all. I'm no longer kingdom valuable or really earthly worth too much.”

I realize this is a downer of a post and I should end it with something brave or encouraging, but I think I’ll just leave it here; some days you just don’t get that happy ending.