Soul Care
by Philip Matheny
Missions Director, Sheltering Wings
As we wrap up 2022 here at The Messenger, we’re bringing a three-part series to you on Soul Care. This month, my good friend Philip Matheny (former worker in Burkina Faso and current Missions Director at Sheltering Wings) speaks to us about the importance of workers keeping the right perspective on the actions of their sending churches. As he powerfully builds on body language from the New Testament, he helps both cross-cultural workers and sending churches alike understand that soul care often depends on your point of view.
You have likely heard of nerve disorders. A notorious one comes with advanced diabetes, where prolonged high blood sugar actually damages nerve endings which can result in a loss of feeling. There are other conditions, such as Disassociated Sensory Loss and CIPA, which both cause a loss of pain and temperature sensations. People with these conditions find themselves with unintentional and sometimes self-inflicted injuries and burns. Severe nerve injuries can cause paralysis, as in the case of my dear friend, who has been in a wheelchair since high school.
At this point, are you double-checking that you’re still reading The Messenger?
Let’s quickly jump into a well-known Bible illustration. In Ephesians 4, Colossians 2, I Corinthians 12, and Romans 12, Paul teaches us much by comparing the church with a physical body. How can this metaphor help us as churches sending missionaries overseas? How can it help us as missionaries living and working far from our known spiritual family?
I want to propose that something akin to a nerve disorder can occur when individuals or families are sent to the mission field. Nerves serve as the primary communication system across our physical bodies; it is often communication that is complicated across time zones, changing cultural values, and busy schedules. While injuries and pain are likely to occur between churches and missionaries, I can also testify to the beauty of extra-attentive senders.
In my family’s five years of serving overseas, plus my five years of helping send missionaries overseas, I have seen many of this endeavor's pains, joys, and complexities. Missionaries might relate to that diabetic’s foot that gets slammed into the furniture without even a pause to check on it. Churches likewise can relate to the brain, being frustrated by what seems to be a lack or distortion of messages coming from that foot!
In an attempt at some “nerve repair” to help mutual understanding, I am sharing from the missionary perspective what certain actions from sending churches have communicated to us. This is a mixture of my family’s experiences as well as other missionaries’ experiences. This is so important because the global body of Christ has much to share back and forth. While churches may not be able to perfectly empathize with their sent missionary on the field, the more the church can see what their actions/inactions communicate, the more they can build a two-way relationship that will bless the larger body of Christ.
When you’ve put us on a pedestal for mission work,
We felt we’d let you down if we shared our struggles.
When you didn’t send women to visit us on the field,
We felt like women on the field were invisible.
When you only gave us 5 minutes during the service to update the church on our ministry,
We felt insignificant.
When you said that our new perspectives were too much for you to handle,
We felt like we could no longer be our full selves.
When you said we could give an update on our ministry among the poor at the bouncy house/ice cream social,
We felt that our two worlds could never be reconciled with each other.
Since we missionaries may not be able to know all the reasons a church does or doesn’t do something, we can easily default to being offended.
Missionaries, for us another option is to ask God for more grace to understand through difficult communication settings. Part of this also comes through us humbly being more honest about how things impact us.
When you reimagined the bouncy house/ice-cream event as the setting for our missions update in favor of small groups,
We felt you were making room for us to embody the culture we’d be discussing.
When you promoted our kids every year in Sunday School, keeping current pictures of them on the wall with all the other kids,
We felt like we were coming back to our other home.
When you added travel money to the annual budget for church members to visit us,
We felt like we weren’t doing this alone.
When you asked how we were doing apart from the ministry,
We felt like we were still your friends and spiritual family.
When you were so excited about God’s work that you surprised us with fundraisers,
We felt renewed energy and passion for the work.
When you put a clock up on the wall showing our country’s time,
We felt your hearts were present with us.
When you sent 100 lbs. of junk food in the middle of a family crisis,
We felt permission to just be normal people.
When you surrounded us at the airport, coming and going,
We felt like our presence would be and was missed.
When you patiently endured long times of silence,
We felt like you didn’t expect us to have all the answers.
When you responded to updates or newsletters,
We felt like our messages weren’t falling on deaf ears.
When you gave us a nice car and furnished a house when we moved back to the States,
We felt God’s incredible provision and care.
When your care package arrived the same day I told God, “I can’t do this anymore!”
We felt like we could stay another day because He heard our cry and answered through you.
When you asked what would be best for your short-term trip and then turned the trip into a marriage retreat, pouring into us and other missionaries,
We felt that our marriages and families are holy.
When you sent a gift wrapped in a beautiful bag,
We felt even though our surroundings were minimal, we were not minimal.
When you took time to listen to all the little things,
We felt like we could tell you all the big things.
When you were alongside us for hard goodbyes leaving the field,
We felt you were shouldering an overwhelming load beside us.
When you took the initiative to video call us regularly,
We felt like we had true co-laborers.
When you fasted and prayed with us for discernment,
We felt God’s peace about the next steps - whatever they turned out to be!
When you gave us time away at your family’s vacation home,
We felt our spiritual health was vitally important.
When you got your passport and visa in order to come help us at a moment’s notice,
We felt more ready to face uncertainties ahead.
Sending churches, when you walked the tightrope of recognizing that we missionaries needed special attention without always having a spotlight on us, God used you to propel us forward in powerful ways. When you took the time to understand us and our circumstances as best you could, you told us our relationship with you mattered more than your return on investment in the missions budget.
Missionaries, when you extend grace rather than assuming the motivations behind actions taken thousands of miles away, you bless the body who sent you as well as your own soul. Choosing to trust might be hard, but it is an important part of caring for your own soul and for the church who sent you.
May God give us all more of the unity among believers Jesus prayed about in John 17. May he demonstrate this powerfully even across the “nerve disorder” complications that come with cross-cultural partnership and keep us from crippling injuries.