10 Year Reflections

Ten years ago today, I was right where I am right now – in Makeni, Sierra Leone. That time, I was with a group of 6 women who were exploring what it might look like to start a ministry for women with disabilities in Sierra Leone. This time, I am with one other woman, to whom I am handing over the management of the ministry here in Sierra Leone. That time, I knew little about what this ministry would look like. This time, I know much, but I also know there is more to know. That time, we were staying in a less-than-comfortable dormitory structure with a common bathroom shared among us and bucket baths and no electricity. This time we are staying in a beautiful, peaceful, comfortable retreat centre owned by our ministry, with private bathrooms, hot and cold running water, fans, nice beds, and sometimes AC. That time, the road ahead of us was dark and uncertain. This time, the road is much clearer. 

Ten years ago was the start of Women of Hope’s program in Sierra Leone for women with disabilities. There was no way to have known at that time what this decade might look like. Who knew that in 10 years Sierra Leone would only be ONE of the programs run by Women of Hope International? Who knew that in 10 years, we wouldn’t even be called Women of Hope International anymore? Who knew the amount of joy or sorrow that would accompany these 10 years? Who knew the number of staff members who would come – and go – through this ministry? Who knew how different things would look today than they looked during that challenging visit to this place 10 years ago? Who knew how many lives would be touched and changed through the ministry? Who knew how life would change for people with disabilities?

Well, I’ve been doing this a while, so I had some vague ideas that things would evolve and change and grow and morph. I knew there would be joy, and there would be pain. But I could not have known the details of what today would look like. But God knew. He knew it all, right from the beginning. Just like He knew that when I agreed to serve as a planning consultant for a group of women in Seattle in May 2009, it was not just going to be a consulting gig. Sometimes God keeps secrets, and that is a good thing. Because we are not to be trusted with too much information. “The secret things belong to the Lord our God, but the things that are revealed belong to us and to our children forever, that we may do all the words of this law.” (Deut. 29:29)  

For the past year, I have been in the throes of either celebrating 10 years of Women of Hope or preparing for some celebration in that regard. Frankly, I am really glad the celebrations are over. Celebrations are good – and they are God’s idea, so I’m all for them. But, it’s time to be done celebrating and reflecting backward, and time to move forward. There will be many more changes to come in this next decade; I am certain of that. I am also certain that I have ZERO idea what those will be. Mind you, I do have ideas of what I think they will be, but I also know for certain that I don’t actually know anything. As I wrap up this month, closing out the celebrating and preparing to move ahead, I am going to share some reflections on these 10 years of ministry and later, a story or two that shaped my experience in them. These reflections today are in no particular order, they are just written as they come to me. “Long obedience in the same direction” sounds more pleasant than it is.
     Actually, it’s just plain hard. For Eugene Peterson (the guy who coined the phrase) it’s easy. He’s with Jesus now, and I’m pretty sure it’s easy to do that with Jesus in person. But in a broken world? Super hard. It’s still essential. And it’s still good. It’s even rewarding (to some extent). But it is neither easy nor pleasant for the most part.

“Nothing comes from nothing. Nothing ever could.”
     That one was coined by Captain Von Trapp (or at least the Rogers & Hammerstein version of him) and is probably far less poignant than Eugene Peterson’s phrase. But it is true, nonetheless. For “something” to be born and grow, you have to give of yourself. This is true in childbirth and childbearing, and it is also true of ministry leadership. For something to come out of it, it will require a HUGE amount of output and investment personally. Now, if you do this right, it is life-giving and enriching. If you do it wrong, it is draining and destructive. I have done it wrong many times over these years, and have walked (or crossed) the line of burnout far too many times. Over these past 2 years in particular, I have learned much about how to “pour out” differently, so as not to become depleted. And my upcoming sabbatical is also a necessary step in that process. 

The people you live to serve and love and help will sometimes turn on you.
     Over the course of these past 10 years, there have been many times that people involved in the ministry have turned on me. I have been threatened with stoning (twice) – once with such convincing vehemence that my staff locked me in a room until the crowd had settled and dispersed. I have been falsely accused many times, but once was an accusation of child trafficking that went “Sierra Leone viral” and resulted in being brought to court in the capital for testimony. I have risked infection with Ebola (5 times) and suffered the stigmatizing effects of people’s uneducated fears. I have had things stolen by people I trusted. I have been misunderstood, maligned, lied about, misrepresented, misjudged, misrepresented, gas-lighted, harassed and slandered. Sometimes this was by those I serve in ministry, sometimes by random people I reached out to help, sometimes by my own teammates. Sometimes I did something wrong or in a wrong manner, which precipitated these attacks, and sometimes they came out of nowhere, or because of doing something right. Regardless of the precipitating cause, these things hurt, and they leave their mark. But ultimately, Jesus told us not to expect anything other than that. People did the same to Him. 

Ministry is uncomfortable, inconvenient and involves sacrifice – and we should not expect otherwise. 

Besides the issues involving other people in ministry, ministry itself – especially cross-cultural ministry – comes with its own brand of pain and discomfort. I have been stranded in locations I did not plan for or pack for. I have sat broken down on the sides of roads and survived harrowing journeys of “rescue” from the plight. I have sat in countless ever-so-small-and-getting-smaller economy airline seats and spent entire weeks of my life sitting in airports. I have had many sleepless nights due to jet-lag and pressing deadlines. I have nursed back pain due to horrendous roads and even worse mattresses. I have endured cold showers when the weather didn’t warrant them. I have missed my children’s birthdays more times than I can count for travel. I have one child in particular who invariably has crises when I am out of the country.  And the list goes on. Is it worth it? Yes, I believe it is. Not because I have always seen the value of the sacrifice per se, but because I believe the promise that this “light and momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison.” (2 Cor. 4:17) I have also realized that we don’t need to take on suffering just because we are in ministry. I haven’t taken a cold shower in chilly weather for a very long time, because I finally realized that there is plenty of other “suffering for Jesus” that can be done even while heating water for a warm bucket bath. I don’t need to inflict suffering on myself in order to “do it right.” 🙂

There is always more to do. 

One of the hard things about ministry is that you’re never done. I am rather fond of “finishing” things, and learning to be ok with thousands of unfinished things and millions of “unfixables” has take a long time – and I’m still learning. The work is never completed. But you know what? It will be there in the morning, or after the weekend, or after a vacation to come back to. We can’t solve all the problems. The starfish story is overused, but it’s true. We do what we are called to in that day, and do it as an act of worship. Everything else does not need to clutter our plate for the day. 

Even in chaos, God is at work.

This one requires a long-range view, something that only comes with time and experience. On the ground, the work can feel chaotic, unfruitful and even hopeless at times. But with a wider angle lens, you can see that despite all the problems, lives are being changed, people are being transformed, progress is happening little-by-little. The Holy Spirit is moving and active – all. the. time. He doesn’t even need us. But he does allow us to participate. Like a mother washing dishes and allowing a 3-year-old to help. Learning to look for the signs of His movement takes practice and patience. Stuff just doesn’t happen in our time frame. 

The thing that changes most in transformational ministry is you.

You set out in ministry thinking you are going to do something wonderful. Something needed. Something inexplicable. Something life-changing. And you do. But it turns out that the life that gets most changed is your own. And yes, some of that change is a result of all of the above – the trials, the pain, the rewarding moments, the process, the Holy Spirit working behind the scenes. But mostly, it is a result of just being in the trenches and doing the day-to-day – the extraordinary things, the hard things, and the little things. It was part of God’s plan all the time. “Come, follow me. And I will change you.” It’s not a call you knowingly answer when you start out, but it doesn’t take long to realize that it was really the intention all the time. 

It’s been a ride. A wild ride. But one I would repeat, as I look back and survey all the changed lives in the wake – my own being chief among them.  

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