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?

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

“Well, you must be there because you have such a love for the people.” I never know how to respond to that comment.

It’s usually after the complaintive statement about why the person thinks it would be so awful to live in our mission field (or outside of America in general). “But the weather’s so bad!”, “How do you deal with the lack of product choice?”, or “Why would you give up such good opportunities in the States?” are the most typical precursors.

A while back, we were invited to visit some fellow Americans in another part of this country during our vacation time. They are Christian, yet their primary reason for being in the country is secular work. We had asked about what there was to do as a tourist in their city, and the reply was interesting:

“Here’s a list of historical and religious sites in the area. We figured since you’re missionaries and you have such a love for these people, you must want to focus on those things during your vacation here.”

Uh, no, actually we were curious about regular tourist stuff and, while that could include a museum or church, we’re more the foodie type. And shopping. And entertainment. Or even walking the countryside. You know, being somewhat normal in modern society. When I let them know this (albeit in much less sarcastic tones), they sounded disappointed. We just wanted some time off and to have fun. It became clear that we weren’t living up to that “Missionary Superhero” stereotype.

I wouldn’t say I have “a love for the people of [my mission field]”, because it seems to imply infatuation or obsession with this specific culture ahead of God’s direction, a bizarre fixation which many take as the only explanation as to why I’d live in this “crazy”, “awful”, or “God-forsaken” place (other people’s words, not mine). To be clear, I do not have a hate for the people, either. I enjoy being here, and we’ve already made extensive study of historical and cultural aspects to better minister to the people here. It seems that the longer we’re in our field, the better we’re understanding the personality of this culture. It can be great fun! But, like all cultures, it’s not perfect in our mission field, and there are parts that are frustrating at times. What I do suspect is that God could call us to a plethora of different cultures, and we’d find that each would have awful and great aspects that make them unique. Just like we found when we were growing up in the States.

What I would say is that we have a love for Christ, and we’re concerned for all people groups; He’s just given us a geographical area to focus on that we find less challenging than it appears to those on the outside of the situation. I can’t say we’re here solely because we have a “love of the people” because it’s not true. We’re here because God called us here, and, should He call us elsewhere or back to the States, we go where He says.

Related posts:

1. When Sympathy Turns Demeaning, Part 2: Those Poor People

While the context is business entrepreneurship, John Doerr makes some interesting comparisons in this video from Stanford. I feel his description of missionary is very favourable, and it made me think in the Christian context, “Are some missionaries more like mercenaries?” The reason I say that is, if you pause the video at 1:04, there’s a comparison list. And it saddens me to say that I have encountered some mercenaries on the field, just replace “money” with “numbers” or “personal glory”. Thoughts?

Link to “Mercenaries and Missionaries”, John Doerr

No related posts.

.

Are printed missionary newsletters so 20th century? (HT: Justin Long)

Thoughts on why we may not want to admit that we have culture shock.

I know I’ve been guilty of giving people the “mishclaimer”, sometimes without realising it.

El Chupacabra faces the preconceived notions of what exactly a missionary looks like.

MissioMishMash writes a missions philosophy for America.

Related posts:

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

The first time I heard it, it went something like this:

“With our method, we hope to plant 200 churches in the mission field within four years.”

Since then, the number of churches, or years, or the method changes every time I hear it, but it’s the same intent: an astounding number in a very short amount of time. And it makes me wonder, do missionaries have to make projection promises just to get funding? Or maybe attention?

I wonder because, by those kind of numbers, we’re pretty pathetic. In our first four years (according to the example above), we’ve planted nothing. Not even one. We’re not even at the beginnings of a church plant. Though I’m not trying to compare or measure up (we’re in a different field, etc.), other Christians have encouraged me over the years to direct my interest to a certain leader or group because “they have this great plan to plant ___ churches in ___ years!”

I have to say that I’ve never had someone suggest I go hear the exciting presentation from missionary who’s still slogging on for decades with perhaps a convert or two and a group of ten in church attendance.

If projection promises are the only way we feel we can gain support or interest, then are we shooting ourselves in the foot when it becomes apparent that the original promise may not be fulfilled on time? Or at all? In my experience, the group that made the above promise is the one that crumbled, with the missionaries spinning out so badly that they left evangelicalism altogether.

I see so much focus on numbers, whether it be how many years to accomplish something or how many are filling the seats of your meeting, yet I see so little focus on discipleship or spending time with people. Were I to be given a demand to projection promise, all that I can promise is that I will be faithful to and do my best to follow God’s will for the ministry in which He has placed me. If He chooses to cause our ministry to birth ___ churches in ___ years, He is most certainly able, but I don’t have that kind of information at the moment. And I’m not sure that we Christians need that information, either.

No related posts.

If you’re new to missions (i.e., you weren’t raised as an MK [Missionary's Kid] or had close family that are/were missionaries), there are so many things to comprehend and consider.  Essentially, they’re everything that doesn’t get mentioned in the Missionary Deputation Presentation, such as strange comments and assumptions that people make about you, odd interpretations of what a missionary is or does, and what it’s like to be in two cultures but not fully part of either.

Because we’ve just come out of the “Time-To-Visit-The-Family Season”, this is the point that your choice to be in the mission field becomes crystal-clear as the sacrifice it is, even in this time of Skype and Twitter and Facebook, etc.  We couldn’t be there for Thanksgiving, and it’s just not the same 5,000 miles away.  We also couldn’t be there for several funerals during our time in the field, and we’ve missed graduations, milestone birthdays, anniversaries, too.  It can be easy to feel a bit sorry for yourself come November and December, and it’s so important to be on guard about it.  I had somewhat anticipated this would happen, but I really didn’t appreciate that my sacrificial decision as a missionary has caused others to sacrifice, too, whether they wanted to or not.

What triggered this realisation was reading two separate blog posts about the affect that one person’s missionary decision has on others.  In the first, a now-adult MK Sarah Earnhart describes what it’s like to live in the missionary decision of her parents in “Taken or Given”:

“MKs lives are taken as soon as their parents surrender to missions…Outgoing and emotional children must learn to not become attached too quickly to friends so as not to be crushed when it’s time to say good-bye. Their lives are taken. MKs can’t choose where they will have their birthdays or if they’ll be able to have a party. Their lives are taken. MKs can no longer know for sure where they are from. Their lives are taken. MKs can no longer feel ‘normal’. Their lives are taken.”

Encouragingly, Sarah also discusses the need for the maturing MK to choose give their life over to Christ when they are fully responsible for their decisions in life.  I had never fully appreciated the MK situation before this, partly because I wasn’t an MK and also not a parent, but mostly because in the little exposure I’ve had to missionaries (all of which were presentations to congregations) it was never brought up or discussed.  Because of my communications background, I recognise why you wouldn’t want to lead with the negatives or be too much of a “Debbie Downer”.  Yet it could have been expressed diplomatically as a prayer concern for the kids.

The second blog post was written by a missionary, apologising for the difficulties her three MKs have experienced and expressing sorrow for how becoming a missionary has affected them.  The sacrifice of the MKs is not lost on their missionary parents.  In it, Laura Leigh Parker writes:

“You three have endured 30 hours in an airplane to a place with smells that made you sick.  You’ve been hot and tired and homesick.  You’ve had to sleep on floors and you’ve tasted a small bite of  homelessness.  You’ve sat down to the dinner table and hated the food in front of you, and you’ve been asked to pretend anyway because people were watching–always watching.  You’ve endured loneliness in the pool when none of the other kids could talk to you.”

These are examples of how the decision to become a missionary directly affects others, namely children and spouses.  But we’re a couple, and we’re both in agreement about the decision.  As we prepared to leave the States years ago, we knew full-well what we were giving up and would go without.  We knew we would not be able financially to visit our families for years.  And we would live with those consequences.  But I hadn’t appreciated the fact that our decision meant that the empty seats at the Thanksgiving table or the high school graduation would cause so much sadness for those back in the States.  It’s easy to think that the void can be smoothed over by a Skype call or email, and while those things help, there’s no substitution for being there in the flesh.

So when you think of a missionary out in another field, slogging through all the difficulties, say a prayer for the family members there reluctantly in the field and for the family members of the missionary left behind in their homeland.

No related posts.