I originally wrote this blog post, 7 Things Not to Say to Your Returning Missionary, in June 2015, when we had just recently arrived in the States after having evacuated from Tonj, South Sudan with our very sick infant son. At the time of writing, we had just made the terribly difficult decision to return to the States instead of finishing out the remaining 2 months of our term. I never published the post because I was afraid it would be too harsh.
However, now that we’ve been back in the States for almost 4 years, I was able to read it with fresh eyes, and I realized that although I was writing this to our friends and family, these things may be really helpful for you, especially if you know your missionary friend or family has had a difficult time on the mission field.
As we come home and you know that we’re struggling with the transition, grieving our losses, and really unsure what’s next, you may find yourself unsure about what to say to us. I get it. We’re different than we were when we left, we’ve had nearly two years worth of foreign life experiences that are difficult to explain, and we’re hurting. I don’t know exactly what will provide us with the most amount of comfort, but I thought it would be helpful to share some things not to say (though if you already have or do say any of these things, we won’t hold it against you 🙂 ). We really won’t know how to answer some questions because the answers are too big or too hard. We may not know how to respond to some comments because our emotions are all over the place. Here are some things that may be best left unspoken…
7 Things You Shouldn’t Say to Your Returning Missionary
“You must be so glad to be home!”
Unless you know FOR SURE that they are, in fact, glad to be home, approach this statement with caution. Here was our answer at the time of re-entry…
A little, but mostly no, we’re not. We know what you mean and we know your heart behind this question. Really, we do. We are relieved to know that there’s excellent healthcare for Clark available day and night and that issues like malaria, dehydration, and scorpion stings were left on the continent. We are so thankful to see our family and friends again, and for everyone to get to know Clark.But coming back to the States now is not really what we wanted or planned, especially not an early return. We left our hearts, our home, and our friends in South Sudan when we evacuated. We long to be there. The word “home” for us is much different now. We feel like we are home in Tonj just like we felt like we were home in Indiana before. Home is a confusing word that illicit all kinds of emotions. As believers, we know that our home doesn’t actually exist on this planet…we are simply passing through. If you ask if we’re happy to be “home,” be prepared for us to stutter, stammer, and avoid answering the question.
“What are you going to do now?” or “So what’s next?”
Some missionaries may be coming back to the States on Home Assignment (furlough) and some may be coming back for good. They may already have a plan in place and know what’s next. That’s awesome and we certainly know plenty of missionaries who left the field with a vision for their next season of life.
However, we know even more missionaries who ended up returning early or returned at the end of their term with very uncertain futures. Maybe political events in their host country have left them in limbo. Maybe sickness or family difficulties Stateside have forced them home. Maybe they’re burned out and struggling. Or maybe they just know they’re done off the field, but aren’t sure what’s next. If your returning missionaries haven’t expressed any certainty about the next season of life, then tread carefully. Here was our response in 2015…
I’m a Type A planner person. I love having the next step figured out and not feeling anxious about the future. But that’s not where we’re going to be for a while. As we sit here in America, we have absolutely no idea what we’re going to do. We’re overwhelmed. And I imagine that will still be true weeks (months?) after our return. If you ask us this question, be prepared for a blank stare and uncomfortable silence. This question overwhelms us. Our plan was simply to get here. Get here, try to figure out how to begin putting ourselves back together, and deal with each thing one step at a time. Tomorrow? The next day? We’re just trying to get through today.
“Everything’s going to be fine.” or “Everything will work out like it’s supposed to.”
Please don’t say this. It’s not helpful. In fact, I feel like these two sentences are never helpful no matter who you are saying them to! Here was our response to this family of comments…
We’ve been through nearly two years of things not being fine, of some really traumatic and heartbreaking experiences. Right now nothing feels fine. We’re wounded. We’re heartbroken. We’re existing under the crushing weight of sadness, grief, and disappointment. We have no idea where we are going from here or what the next season of life will look like. We know that God is in control, but we have suffered. Platitudes like this feel insincere and hurtful, and are just not always true. We’ve lived for nearly two years on a continent in which things are often not fine and we have seen the face of true and incomprehensible suffering. Again, God is sovereign. He has a plan and we’re trusting His plan, but the concept of everything being fine is pretty Western and pretty hard for us to grasp.
“How was your trip?”
This question is fine for someone who just took a business trip, a vacation, a road trip, or even a short-term mission trip. However, your full-time missionary who just moved home from a foreign field will likely cringe at this question, but will have far too much grace to actually correct you. They MOVED their ENTIRE LIVES to the mission field, may have moved several times while on the foreign field, and then just moved back to the States. So no, this was not a trip. This was life…
Unless you’re talking about the flights to get from Africa to America, this question may not be well-received. We moved our lives over there. We lived there. We went grocery shopping, set up our home, plugged into and invested in our community, made friends, and attempted to learn the language. This was not a quick trip. This was life. We know what you mean and we will try to respond with grace, but this question will hurt because it will feel like you’re discounting everything we experienced in nearly two years: all of the emotions and stress and joys and longing associated with not one, but two international moves.
“How are you doing?”
This question is often terribly overwhelming and invites the lie, “I’m fine.” If you want to ACTUALLY know how they are doing, then do not, under any circumstances, ask this question. Ask other questions such as, “What has been the hardest thing this week? What comforts have you found? How, specifically, can I pray for you right now? Do you have some time to grab coffee and talk? What can I pick up for you at the store?” We loathed this question when we had just returned…
This question is simply too hard to answer. We know that the expectation in America is that we’ll say, “Oh, we’re fine.” But that will be a lie, so we will do everything in our power to avoid answering this question. We are not fine. We are grieving. We are overwhelmed. We are trying to start over. We are trying to figure out who we are in the context of this massive transition.
“Tell me EVERYTHING!”
Impossible. There’s no way. There’s too much. And you don’t want to hear everything…at least not at once. If you are genuinely interested in hearing your missionary’s stories, then they will share with great joy. The telling of their experiences will be paramount in their debriefing and healing process, so they will definitely want to share. Here was our response to this statement…
Impossible. There’s no way. There’s too much. We’ve been over there for almost two years. It’s going to take time to unpack this journey, so you’ll probably hear our story in bits over the course of months (years?). But if you rush up to us and demand to hear everything when we bump into you at Target or in the church sanctuary, know that we will give you a really polite, well-rehearsed answer that will be short to avoid watching your eyes glaze over with disinterest. If you really want to hear everything, we’ll plan coffees, dinners, game nights, etc. and you’ll allow us to share as we’re ready, or you’ll ask questions that are purposeful to draw out some of our deepest emotions, experiences, heartaches, and joys. You’ll provide for us a safe environment to tell our story and you’ll listen with interest and thoughtfulness.
“You must have done so much good over there.”
All of the missionaries we met on the field were full of compassion and passionate about Jesus. Many of their ministries included meeting the felt needs of people: things like providing healthcare, drilling water wells, and running orphanages. Just as Jesus healed the sick and fed the poor, many missionaries work very intentionally to meet the needs of the people in their communities.
But their number one goal is to preach the gospel. It’s to make Jesus known and to make disciples. And truthfully, if your missionary has been serving in an impoverished nation/region/city, expect that they looked around at the needs surrounding them and felt like whatever help they might provide would be only a drop in the ocean.
Yes, there are lots of NGOs doing loads of good around the world, but your missionaries probably didn’t feel like they did much good. They probably encountered their own brokenness and depravity, found the end of themselves, and realized that the only lasting hope they had to offer was Jesus. That was certainly our experience…
I don’t even know how to respond to this, even now. One of the very first weeks we were in Nasir, our whole team was struggling and really wanting to leave. Jared, our team leader, preached a beautiful sermon about crawling onto the alter and not getting off until God called us to. What we learned about ourselves there is that we’re really awful people–full of sin and in desperate need of Jesus. We did whatever God put before us, but even that was done out of the imperfect messes of humanity that we are. Did we do good? I don’t know. But we did try to walk in step with the One who called us and we did stay on the alter until God gave us permission to come down.
We actually had the most amazing welcoming committee (seriously, we have the BEST friends)! The people we know and love say were very careful not to say anything hurtful or frustrating…but we did encounter a number of these questions from strangers on our journey home, acquaintances in the church foyer, and even some family members who hadn’t been as close to our journey.
If you have a missionary friend or family member who has, is, or soon will be making their way back to the States–whether on Home Assignment or for the foreseeable future–I think these questions will probably be hard for him/her. At least they were for us.
But there’s also grace. If you ask them one of these questions, know that they will probably recognize your hearts and maybe even know that you don’t know what else to say…that you’re just trying to show care and concern. It’s okay. Just know that you may not get a very coherent answer.
This is actually useful, thanks.