A Life in Exile

I couldn’t see it then. On the field, in the midst of the muck, there were days when I wondered if I was making a dent in the lives of the people God had called me to serve. Some, who had come to faith in Jesus, seemed to be making very slow progress, and I wondered if they would ever grow to maturity. Maybe it was me. Was I giving them what they needed in discipleship or by my example? Then, when the inevitable happened—our move to another location or return to the States—would the ones we left behind survive? Who would walk with them? How would they continue to grow?

Struggles with perspective.

Working on ground level, it’s hard to see past the moment. I sometimes wondered why God wouldn’t allow me to know with certainty that the women I discipled would be okay ten to twenty years from my time with them. I worried for them after we left the country, thinking, that without me, they wouldn’t survive. That’s why it was hard for me to watch my late husband move seamlessly from one country to the next without looking back. Didn’t he care about those we left behind? They were our spiritual children after all! Who was going to take care of them now?

I’d forgotten it’s not about me but about God. The joy I felt at their conversions turned to worry all too quickly when some didn’t seem as engaged with the Word as I imagined they should be, or when I saw them drifting back into bad habits or their former religious tendencies. I’d forgotten that the Lord was showing his grace to me by not allowing me to see the full picture of their life journeys. Only he can handle the ups and downs of a person’s faith: he knew it would be too much for me.

He wanted me to be satisfied with each day’s task, whether it was in discipleship, Bible study, worship, fellowship, or even simple prayer with and for the new believers he’d brought my way. I had to learn to do the good works he’d prepared in advance for me to do that day, not worry about days to come.

The power of prayer.

When we left a certain country and even long into our retirement years, I learned that prayer is one of the good works the Lord has given us to stay involved in the lives of those we no longer see. I knew that each person who had come out of the darkness to the light of Christ was the target of a spiritual battle taking place in the heavenlies. Satan doesn’t like it when he loses ground in the world, and by keeping Christians complacent, dissatisfied, under attack by family or community members, he was at least keeping them ineffective for the cause of his enemy—Christ Jesus.

As the years passed, and I’d hear a word or see a post on social media related to one of these beloved, I would pray. Even wars and natural disasters became opportunities to pray for those I knew in the regions affected. I couldn’t worry over them, no, but I could pray, reminded that God and his angels were active in standing up against anything Satan might try. Prayers for perseverance, a deeper desire to be in the Word, physical and spiritual protection, and for other believers to come alongside them were all part of the mix. I couldn’t see the outcome, but I knew the One who was with them through the storms.

The blessing of glimpses into God’s perspective.

While there are many individuals I have never seen since I moved from a certain country, God has given me special serendipities in often unexpected reunions with those we loved and served. Several years ago, a former seminary student from a Muslim background came to speak at our church in the States. Hearing his testimony and how God had worked in his life over the last twenty years brought tears to my eyes.

A recent trip to Canada brought the double blessing of seeing two women I’d known and discipled in North Africa. One I had seen and kept up with, and my time in her home and with her family was sweet and encouraging. I loved being able to see her children raised, not in the kind of religious faith she had known, but in the faith of Christ Jesus. This reminded me that those impacted for Christ by our witness and ministry will in turn change generations to come.

I was not sure if I would be able to see the second woman, but I was grateful to find time to drive to her home and see her, her husband, and her family. It had been twenty-one years since we last met. I knew the years had brought many ups and downs in their lives, spiritually and otherwise, but when I hugged her, I knew God was still at work in her life. The real blessing was that the Lord allowed me to speak into their lives at just that moment…twenty-one years later…because it was needed, and he knew they would listen.

Still, I had to say goodbye again, but this time I could do it with no worry, reminded that the God who began a good work in them, “would carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” He let me see that day that he was not done with them yet, and I could rest in his sovereignty over their lives.

Do all those we leave behind do well and flourish for the Kingdom? No, but just as the Word of the Lord does not return void, the work we do on his behalf in making disciples makes a difference. I may not see it this side of heaven, but a day is coming when the Lord will let us see what he has always seen and known. In the meantime, our job is to remain faithful and persevere in prayer, thanking God every time he brings a person to our mind. He does that for a reason—he’s not done with them yet.

Grace and Peace

If you missed the last Mission Monday post, click HERE, or check out these posts on perspective: Light and Momentary, Perspective, and Listening and Learning.