Halfway through the furlough presentations, he showed up again. I thought we were done with all of this.

About a year and a half into our mission in Western Europe, one of our supporting church pastors arrived in our country. Out of the blue. With three other people.

In fairness, he had contacted us in an email a couple of months prior, simply stating that he thought he might come over to our mission field. That was it: no dates, no mention of whether it would be a “fun trip” to visit us or a “mission trip” to do something, and no indication of who else would be coming. Honestly, we got so many of those half-hearted emails from many pastors and Christians that went nowhere, so our response to him (and others) asked for clarity on those details (especially the dates), and, like most of the others, we never got a response. That had always meant they dropped the idea and weren’t coming.

But this one was different. His secretary emailed us two months later to let us know that Pastor and three others were arriving the very next day. All the secretary provided us was the phone number of the hotel where they were staying and instructions to call Pastor once he arrived. 

When we finally got a hold of Pastor that morning, he immediately demanded a meeting with us and gave us his week-long itinerary where we were to drive the group around, set up a certain number of meetings with local churches and accommodate his aggressive street evangelism. The problem with this was: 1) he was over an hour away from us, 2) we had committed a considerable amount of time to several churches that week who were in desperate need of pulpit supply, and 3) our economy car barely fit us two. Additionally, most of the bivocational national pastors, already pressed for time, had their week booked as well.

Pastor didn’t appreciate it when we explained why we couldn’t accommodate everything he wanted that morning. He really didn’t appreciate it when we explained that, had he notified us even just a couple of weeks prior, we could have borrowed a larger car, set up all the appointments he’d requested, and even arranged for someone else to take the pulpit supply. The best we could do is meet with him towards the end of his trip when our schedule cleared, giving us time to locate a loaner van.

So we scrambled to make the appointments he requested, planned the “tour” of our mission area, and got a van. By the time he made it down to our neck of the woods, he’d been in the country about six days, videotaping his witnessing and “converts” in the capital city.

He said he would take us to lunch, so we took him to a reasonable restaurant in the heart of our small village. He proceeded to complain about everything loudly, being the most extreme example I’ve ever seen of the “Ugly American” that Europeans despise so much. Not only did he berate the people and their way of life while they sat a few feet away from us, he used some of the most foul and vulgar language I’ve ever heard. I’ve been around a lot, and people in our mission country curse all the time. But I’d never heard a pastor use such inappropriate language in my life. His response when queried was, “I might as well say it since God already knows I thought it.”

When the check came he said, “This country is way too expensive. I had no idea, so you guys need to pick up the check.” We didn’t have enough money budgeted to pay for six people eating out. And we told him that. Again with more cursing and complaining, but he ended up paying, complaining loudly to the staff that they should have had free drink refills.

His visits with the national pastors were equally disastrous. Though he somehow decided to hold his tongue in the cursing department, Pastor blustered into each meeting with why each national pastor was doing things wrong (though Pastor had just met them) and how Pastor could help them do everything right because he was so gifted. One of the national pastors was used to Americans and usually gave them a lot of grace; even he was extremely offended.

We couldn’t get the guy and his group out of the country fast enough. And he made no secret that he was annoyed that we hadn’t catered to his every whim; he wouldn’t even acknowledge that communicating with us ahead of time would have helped in this arena.

The next month his church cut our funds with no communication about it. Not surprised, we shrugged our shoulders and continued on.

Three months later, he sends an email: why haven’t the national pastors asked him to come back to “help them” in ministry? He desperately wanted to plant a large number of churches in our field, and he was offended that no one wanted his help.

The response email politely but honestly let him know how offensive his actions had been and that they could have collapsed our ministry there, too. We offered a few helpful things that could amend the situation and even sent him the “American or American’t” document to try to convey how he was making things worse, not better.

No response.

So it’s over two years later, and we were smack in the middle of our furlough presentations to the churches who have supported us. Because most of our supporting churches are familiar to one another, Pastor has heard through the grapevine that we are back on furlough. Imagine our surprise when we arrive at a supporting church to present one recent Sunday, and their pastor confronts us with, “Pastor tells me that you told him he could not return to [our mission field],” as if we had barred him from the entire country!

After we explained what happened, the supporting pastor agreed with us and acknowledged that Pastor was a rough individual. We were then told that Pastor had disbanded the church which had supported us, sold the building and was using the money to do various mission projects. Considering his disgusting language and rude behaviour, I’m shocked anyone thinks he’s fit to lead a congregation, a mission, or even a Bible study.

End of story, right? Wrong. It became apparent that he was making the rounds through our supporting churches, spreading half-truths and presenting us as the bad guys. Two years later, it still goes on.

And the final insult? During furlough, Pastor approached other supporting pastors, asking why we wouldn’t present at a new church he’s working with–one that didn’t know us and had never supported us. He had all of our still-valid contact information, yet he had not contacted us directly, making it sound as if we had already refused an invitation that was never sent.

I’m not sure if he was trying to get the other churches to drop our support or what his motivation was. I’d like to say, “I wish he’d just leave us alone,” but he hadn’t even interacted or asked us personally to present. He just lied about us from afar and made it sound like he’s interested in us when he clearly was not. Please tell me this is an unusual situation for a fundraised missionary, because it scares me to think there may be more guys out there like Pastor.

Related posts:

1. Pastor v. Missionary: What’s The Difference?

It’s back! After a year’s hiatus, “From the Missionary Blogosphere” re-emerges.

An executive director of a missions agency reveals his five mistakes in sending missionaries.

Are we “too dependent on the satisfaction of having done something for them over there?”

Thoughts on why the Missional Movement will fail.

A former MK reveals the lies that MKs believe.

What are poor kids learning from the rich kids who go on short-term missions?

This post means a lot to me at the moment, and I think Explanation #3′s paragraph is the answer to his question.

Related posts:

1. From the Missionary Blogosphere
2. From the Missionary Blogosphere
3. From the Missionary Blogosphere

Furlough. Wow. Ugh.

I had a lot of trepidation about the demands of furlough. Some of them proved to be correct, others must have been myths, or churches are changing how they treat missionaries.

We learned a lot through the time, and for the few who seemed interested in what their church had been supporting for up to six years, I’m glad we got to speak.

If you remember from the last post on this subject, “Yet Sometimes God Closes the Door”, we spent our first few months catching up with family and friends. Still reeling from the circumstances that made us leave and also from reverse culture shock (by the way, it’s exactly as described), the time was much needed. A lot of prayer and waiting on God revealed that we were not going to return to that field or continue fundraising support for now. Despite the fact that this particular mission was over, we felt that we should still report/present to each supporting church, all of whom maintained support over most (in some cases, all) of the time we were in the field. In other words, not asking for more money, just letting you know what you paid for.

Considering the confusion this caused, I’m assuming this isn’t usually done in Missionary World. 

One pastor, who was fine with us leaving the field, made it clear later that he thought we were covertly fundraising for the next field or stateside church plant. We were not.

A supporter wanted to host an evening in her home for us to present—until she found out we weren’t fundraising. When I said we were happy to still talk about the spiritual need there (and suggest other ministries/missionaries they could support), she felt they wouldn’t be interested. I thought people complained that all missionaries ever did in presentations was ask for money.

I had been told (and had read) a lot about how churches want their furloughed missionaries to speak at groups, that everyone wants the missionary to stay at their house, even one instance of taking their missionaries around in limousines (we would not have been comfortable with limousine-level treatment; I just don’t think that’s necessary). We expected to be kept busy with many meetings, especially with the supporting church pastors who had been interactive with us over the years and had been excited for us to come back.

We pretty much got the opposite.

Of quite a few churches, only one responded to our request for assistance in housing as we traveled through. Even our sending church ignored multiple housing requests. In the end, we were housed by a pastor friend, a Christian supporter we barely knew, and an agnostic former co-worker.

Not one of the churches had us speak at any non-Sunday meeting. Most said they were deep in a Bible study that couldn’t be interrupted with a missionary presentation.

Most every church restricted us to a five minute presentation in the Sunday service and were incredibly firm that we not go over that time. You should have seen some of the pained looks we got when we said we had a two-minute video that went along with our talk! At some of these churches, members expressed disappointment and asked why we didn’t speak for a longer time (or why we weren’t presenting at the mid-week Bible study). This put us in a terribly awkward position; the only thing we could answer with was, “This was the time we were given.”

Excepting a couple of churches, we were not offered any financial assistance, whether it be gas money or a lunch. The pastors didn’t even ask about our housing or if we needed anything. Pastors would look at us sheepishly after service and say, “we normally take our missionaries out to lunch, but I forgot you were coming…” This was followed by an explanation of an event that the church was doing, and one pastor’s wife made sure to tell us that “it’s more important that we’re with our church members than spending time with you.” Yeah, we picked up on that, but it didn’t have to be stated.

Seriously, we would have been embarrassed and annoyed if we has received a hero’s welcome, were showered with gifts, or had been treated like celebrities. That’s not what this is about. The overall impression that we received was that we were in the way, and perhaps because we’re not continuing on as missionaries at this time, there was no reason to hear about mission in our field, nor to express any concern about how we’ll now live. Meanwhile, it appeared that many of these churches were not nearly as foreign missions-focussed towards any location compared to when we had originally presented six years ago. You can forget us, you can forget our field, but why are you forgetting missions?

The Good Stuff (yes, there was some of that, too) was the time spent catching up with old friends and co-workers, which was precious. Getting to revisit many churches since seeing them six years ago was fascinating. All had changed, some for the better, some disappointingly for the worse.

At two of the places we stayed over furlough, we were essentially housesitting, giving us some of the only time by ourselves during a furlough that lasted over half of the year. This was truly God’s mercy as I had never before lived with non-family “roommates”, so the overwhelming majority of furlough was quite the lesson in sharing bathrooms and learning others’ living styles, eating habits, and quirks. It was humbling, but I’m very glad that we are back to living on our own.

Over the time, we got to stay in virtually every type of dwelling, from mobile home to penthouse. It was great to visit our old stomping grounds, the city where we lived prior to becoming missionaries. Oh, how our priorities have changed! Yet it gave us time to reflect, to analyse the last five years, and seek God’s direction for us.

So we’ve ended up in the Pacific Northwest. We chose it as we cannot afford the last city we lived in before the mission field. Because we sold everything to move over to Western Europe, we now face the daunting task of re-acquiring even the minimal basics for living. It will take some time, as the computer business that helped support us in part while in the field now must support us full-time in this crazy economy. We have no immediate direction from God, other than “Be still”.

Related posts:

1. Reverse Furlough, Part 1: The Good Stuff
2. Reverse Furlough, Part 2: The Not-So-Great Stuff

I’d like to read more this year, and missiology/missions is definitely on the subject list. I’m thinking of possibly reviewing some of those books on this site so:

What book(s) would you recommend to someone who says, “I’m thinking of becoming a missionary/going on a short-term mission trip” or asks the question, “What’s it like to be a missionary?”

Hit the comments below!

Related posts:

1. Question Week: What Books Would You Recommend to a Prospective Missionary?
2. Question Week: How Do You Handle Missionary Inquiries?

The latest newsletter from The Body Builders talks about the importance of sending gifts to your supporters, not only to encourage better relationships with your financial partners but also to help maintain giving. I have to be honest; in our almost five years in the field, we never sent Christmas gifts. As much as we communicated and made sure to send letters, postcards and make phone calls to our supporters, we just couldn’t afford to buy and ship packages from our field. The cost was too high.

But not every missionary is in Western Europe. So I’m curious: do you give/send Christmas gifts to your supporters?

And here’s the link to the newsletter: ‘Tis the Season…For Giving!

Related posts:

1. Roll the Dice, Get a Prize, Give to Missions?
2. Staying Home For Christmas
3. Fundraising: The Extreme Edge of Faith

I’m rethinking a lot about missions these days while back in the States. Much, much more to come, but a friend recently sent us this:

“Girls Night Out – Bunko With a Mission”! Mark your calendars for Saturday at 6:30 p.m. at [church]. Prizes and raffling off gift baskets from [Local Restaurant], Starbucks, Lacome, Mary Kay, [Tutoring], Bath & Body, [Football Team tickets] and much more. Suggested donation $10. Feel free to invite a friend…Please R.S.V.P.

There are so many ways to fundraise, I know. But in the case of missions, what are we conveying to people? This isn’t very important to you, so I’ll have to bait you with prizes and useful, fun items you receive in return. We’re so desperate, we’ll try anything. 

If they’re playing a game that had been originally used for gambling (I’ve never played it, so I’m not familiar with the method), isn’t this akin to having a “Casino Night for Missions”? I’m not fearful of cards or dice when playing a board game with the family, but it just seems to me like an odd method to use for mission fundraising.

We had been taught, mostly by being the audience in a church, that the missionary is to convince you with facts, figures, and photos why their mission needs our financial support. You might speak to the missionary afterwards to get more information, and then decide to give an amount freely, not expecting something tangible in return. We encouraged people to pray about this and a specific monetary figure, and I hope they did. It appears to me to be a more intellectual pursuit.

Of course, I realise that we sold off all our possessions years ago to go to our mission field; however, it was not presented in the classifieds as a “Help Missions Yard Sale”. It was just a yard sale, and it did benefit missions. Yet that was not why people showed up and bought my toaster. It was a simple transaction.

The church doesn’t seem to use these methods for regular Sunday tithes. Oh, I know there’s the year-end appeal when the church is in the red, but I’ve never been part of a church that ran, say, a Harvest Festival to Pay the Electric Bill. Tithing and stewardship has been addressed in the Sunday message in a rather straightforward way in my experience. Why the need to get money for missions in this way?

So, am I just a fossil who’s been out of the States for too long and needs to “get with the times”, or does this strike you as the wrong message to send about how to support missions?

Related posts:

1. Do You Give Christmas Gifts to Your Supporters?

We’re back in the States. For now.

We’ve been back for a few months. Praying, waiting, seeking God’s direction. I didn’t mean to leave the blog with the cliffhanger of  “The Voices in Your Head”, but shortly after that entry things went horribly wrong at the church we were serving.

Elders, deacons and church members spoke some of those exact words I had typed in April. Those voices became real. And there’s no way they read the blog; only my Other Half knows about it.

But that’s not the problem. We’ve had worse said and done to us. We’re grown-ups. We can take it. The real problem was that they used those words to justify their next step, which was to take the church down a very unBiblical path. And the membership made their stand firm.

We knew resigning was our only option, but what made it so hurtful was that, in leaving that church, it effectively killed our immigration permission. Due to new laws, we had to leave, seek another ministry opportunity in the mission country and then attempt to reenter later, resetting all permission back to the beginning. And those new laws have become ultra-restrictive to any new missionaries.

Almost 5 years of ministry stopped in what felt like a heartbeat. We had to return back to the States, completely unplanned and unprepared. It was (and still is) awkward, uncomfortable and left us pretty emotionally drained. But the most interesting part was in the leaving. 

If you look at the About section of this blog and the early post “When Missionaries Leave on Bad Terms”, you read my confusion about former missionaries leaving and hating our mission field in Western Europe. I believe this experience may have answered my question from 2008.

When we knew we had to leave, we started to inform and explain to those around us; we didn’t just disappear. If you’ve read any of this blog, you’ll quickly understand that we’ve worked so hard to communicate in context with the nationals. Though some were most understanding and have kept contact with us to this day, many shocked us with their responses to why we were leaving.

“You’re lying.”

“This isn’t that big of a deal. Why not just stay, ignore the problem until you get citizenship in a few years and then quit the church?” (from a national pastor, of all people)

“You’ve got some other plan that you’re hiding, like a better paying job.”

The day we were flying out of the country, we even received an anonymous text saying something to the effect of: “I know what you really did. You should have come clean, but you’ve made it worse. You think you’re escaping this today, but it will follow you.”

Whoa. Talk about kicking us when we’re down. I think I’m starting to understand some people’s reactions if this is anything of their experience in leaving. Not saying it’s right, but we’re still working through some anger issues over the abusive, bullying and untrue comments that came directly to our face from Deacons and Elders.

At this point, I still couldn’t be in the same room with some of them and be civil. I’ve lived long enough to know that this, too, will pass. But it’s pretty raw at the moment.

So here we find ourselves in a weird limbo state: an unexpected furlough. Hopping from relative’s house to relative’s house, catching up on the last 5 years. America is a very different place than the one we left. We’re not the only ones out of a job and trying to figure out what’s next. It seems like now, when you say you don’t have the money for something, unlike before, people actually believe you.

Soon we embark on the presentations to our supporting churches, the part I really dread. It’s going to be difficult to see photos on the video of what we accomplished while there, knowing what was said and how it ended. And the requisite staying in different places with people you don’t really know. Not fun.

Yet we don’t want to give up the opportunity to show people what their church’s contribution helped accomplish (actually, a lot of long-lasting good, despite the end), nor the opportunity to challenge people on what missions can look like and where that can happen (see “We All Know What Happens When We Assume…”).

We’re still very gutted over the whole thing, still trying to make sense of it and at the same time finding our way forward. We don’t hate God, we’re not leaving ministry, and we still believe we are missionaries.

But not in Western Europe, at least, for now.

No related posts.

On the mission field you see a lot of things, hear a lot of things, feel a lot of things. But the hardest thing to overcome is the voices in your head.

You know what I’m talking about. They’re not audible (we’re not talking schizophrenia here), they don’t make logical sense, but they’re always there. Hanging on your every hang-up, weakness, and self-doubt, those voices know exactly how to get to you. And even though there’s no actual proof for 99% of it, you just feel that it’s so believable.

Oh, I had those voices before. Before I was a Christian, before I entered missions. I think—I know—a lot of people hear these voices, too. It’s just being human. But stepping onto Satan’s territory, the volume goes up. Way up. And the attacks are much more precise, delving deeper into your psyche than ever before. There they are, lurking at every turn, sometimes so out of the blue that it almost literally knocks the wind out of you.

“They don’t want you here.”

“You can’t do this.”

“It all seems hopeless.”

“What if you get kicked out of the country?”

“You’re an imposter.”

“How will you survive if the funds take a nose dive?”

“They will never see you as anything more than a foreigner with an alien agenda.”

“You deserve better.”

“You’ve done your time; why keep on going?”

You don’t usually see the arrows coming. Funny thing is, the arrows don’t hit; they just whizz by, uncomfortably close but not an actual strike. I don’t know what it is, but it seems to come when nothing’s wrong, no one’s started anything, and there’s absolutely nothing in the physical world to point to. Just these weird convictions that seem to come out of nowhere, sound seductively simple yet true. And they’re not.

But I don’t give in to them. I can’t. I won’t. Partly because I’m stubborn, but more because I can’t sense God in any of it. None of it makes sense, and quite frankly, they’re all lies. I’ve got no proof and, what’s more, it’s never revealed to me when I’m in my quiet time or any time I’m focussing on God. Never. Not once.

So what do I do? Conquer by continuing. Feel the fear and do it anyway. Pray, pray, and pray some more. Because if my time here on earth has taught me anything, it’s that Satan starts to ramp up the attacks when you’re stepping on his toes and close to a breakthrough for God’s Kingdom. I’ve seen so many missionaries give up on something that they thought was impossible—only to find out that if they’d waited a couple of months, things would have been so much different, better, right.

I can’t take that risk.

No related posts.

This month’s fundraising newsletter from The Body Builders suggests raising support through the power of a community. Essentially, the concept is to meet regularly with a group of other missionaries that are fundraising to swap ideas and encourage one another. I think this is a brilliant idea and wish we’d had this opportunity when we were back in the States. You can read the entire newsletter here: “The Power of Community in Raising Support”.

I wonder, however, how this looks once you’re in the field. We view support raising as something that doesn’t stop, and while a meeting could be of great benefit while on furlough, I’m unfamiliar with the community concept while in the field. Has anyone else had experience of encouraging each other in a group setting while fundraising?

Related posts:

1. Top Five Fears in Fundraising
2. Transitioning From Fundraising to Tentmaking
3. Are You Using “Toxic Phrases” When Fundraising?

.

A letter from Post-Christian Europe on the future of America’s Christian culture.

Do you idolise the “easy” life of a missionary? An honest answer here.

An open letter from a former long-term missionary to France on returning to worship in American churches.

Are you a missionary or are you a “Trader”? (HT: Almost an M)

An updated answer to “What is Furlough?”

Related posts:

1. From the Missionary Blogosphere