After I preached a few weeks ago, a seeker came up to profess faith in Jesus and asked to be baptised! Every missionary’s perfect dream, right? But why was my joy so flat and dulled? That was the day I realised I was no longer on the brink of burnout, but in the throes of it.
After a decade of serving in Japan, I still can’t say I know what it really means to be a missionary, let alone a healthy one. As I prepare for my second home assignment, I feel the same lingering fatigue at the end of my first term five years ago. So how did I get here?
I’d thought that a missionary’s first term was the toughest. Starting life from scratch on so many levels took a lot of grace from God and tenacity. I believe it is one of the most painful and humbling seasons of character molding a Christian can go through. But the second term — no one told me it was going to be even harder! I’m no longer a newbie, but there is still so much I can’t do and don’t know about Japan, about serving the church, and (surprise!) about myself.
Four years ago, I arrived at my placement ready to serve the church, but very quickly realized I was not meeting expectations, including my own. I’ve been on the field for a few years — I can hold some Japanese conversations and navigate most of daily life without much trouble. But I am still not Japanese. It still takes me what feels like centuries to write a Japanese sermon. I still panic when I’m suddenly asked for hitokoto (to say a few words, which can range from simple greetings to prayers or short Bible messages depending on the context). I still find it hard to say no when I’m asked to meet the ministry needs of the church — after all, I’m called to serve, right?
The road to burnout is an insidious one. No one wakes up suddenly struck with burnout. It is the regular pounding of expectations, added to bouts of illnesses, aging (brain fog from menopause is just perfect for hitokoto!), sudden seasons of mourning, and mediating conflicts of my own and others. Day after day of all that slowly sapped away my energy. One can have consistent spiritual disciplines and an active physical life, but still succumb to burnout.
In all honesty, I do enjoy my life and ministry. The Lord has blessed me with many encouragements, and having someone responding to your sermon in repentance and faith in Jesus counts as a top highlight. But I’m realising, as I wrap up 10 years in Japan, that perhaps keeping healthy on the field — or anywhere — is a misnomer. Because there’s always something sick about me — physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. My heart experiences delight with God’s Word, I try my best to keep it physically pumping with exercise and mentally with worthy pursuits, but all these don’t necessarily keep me healthy. This side of heaven, my heart is always going to be unwell.
The best I can and must do is try to keep my eyes fixed on Jesus, the author and perfector of my faith (Hebrews 12:2). Unless I see and experience more of God, my Lord, I’m going to be overwhelmed by the mess around me today. Unless I love Christ more than myself and others, I am going to suffer from the fear of man, the weight of expectations, and the inability to say no. A wise friend recently said, “Just because it’s in the calendar, does not mean God is calling you to do it.” Unless I trust the Spirit’s work in my life and that of others, I will not be able to truly rest and find the refreshment I need.
By an OMF missionary
