(a personal experience by missionary Valerie Moore during a recent BBFI Regional Retreat made possible by the Missionary Care Offering)

Soon after our arrival in Portugal, it was said to us by a veteran missionary of another Baptist mission organization, “Portugal is a graveyard for missionaries in two ways”.  Either missionaries come and stay until they die (planting a single church here seems like a life-long commitment), or they die spiritually trying.  Over his thirty some years in the country, he has kept a list of all of the missionaries he knows of that have come, stayed a little while, and left for a variety of reasons.  As of 2019, this list is over 300 names long.  We soon understood how arduous and discouraging the work is, and recognized the need for encouragement and camaraderie.  Even though we were the “new kids on the block,” we set about planning a retreat for spiritual encouragement and fellowship for the BBFI missionaries in Spain and Portugal.

The regional retreat has continued since that first one in 2014, always bringing pastors, staff, and their wives who love us and lift us up.  They bring workers who use their vacation time (and maybe even their vacation money!) to instruct and invest in our children (in English, might I add – a language they love so dearly – ha ha!)  What a blessing it is, and we have never been sorry to have been in attendance. This year, the Missionary Care Offering made such a retreat possible, and when we received our e-mail invitation announcing the workers and speakers, I felt a strange emotion come over me, almost like coming home after a long absence.  Though the list was short, the names were familiar to me:  the Benders, who faithfully serve us from the Mission Office and who have already walked with us through many life events and dark valleys, as well as Bob and Kim Stephenson, who we have always known to be supportive, encouraging, and steadfast.  And of course, the many sweet people he represents who were willing to lend us their pastor for two Sundays and all the days in between, even covering the cost of his travel and ministry to us.  What a blessing you are, Graceway Baptist Church.

This scenario reminded me of scenes from Captain America (spiritual analogy, I know).  But I thought back to those who insisted on the importance of going to the “front lines” to inspire and reanimate the troops, bringing them a taste of home, as well as the many other reasons for those sorts of campaigns.  As was preached this week, the “front line” is before every Christian and is not unique to the mission field.  We know our common enemy, Satan, is as much at work in your home and church as he is in ours.  But there is something very pointed about the immensity of the struggle one faces on the mission field, and the many burdens that weigh you down (whether spiritual or practical), and the isolation that intensifies the battle wounds.  The truth is, it isn’t expedient or practical to “come home from the front” every time you take a blow.  So often we need help where we are.  Many struggles are more complex than a “two-week trip to the states” can fix. In some cases, our absence could bring about the crumble and ruin of the ministry.  Yes, we sometimes need someone sent to us.

In this week’s first meeting, each missionary was asked to introduce their family and share a prayer need the group could remember before the Lord. Having sat on the front row and knowing we would be among the first to answer, my husband and I looked at each other in a slight panic as if to say, “What is it we should ask for prayer for?” Some requests are too deeply personal to share in a large group setting, and others seem too trivial as we look around the room knowing some are struggling with the death of family members, their aging and ailing parents, cancer, and other deep valleys.  We immediately thought of the names of a handful of people attending our small church who are struggling with the disappointment of realizing that THEIR will for their lives does not seem to be God’s will for their lives.  They are about to spiritually throw in the towel, and we so desperately want to talk them off the cliff.  While we both agreed the shared prayer request should probably be “more personal” to our family, rather than ministry, this feels very personal to us as we have invested in and walked alongside these baby Christians, helping to carry their heavy burdens.

Later, I reflected over the oddity of having had a hard time coming up with a prayer request, and recognized the fact that we are not currently in a crisis.  I thanked the Lord for that, and realized that for the most part, things are moving along, one foot in front of the other, not wonderfully, nor terribly, just ordinarily.  Please don’t misunderstand me.  I am not at all ungrateful for the many blessings of God in our life, nor am I under the illusion that everything about our country of service, our ministry, our marriage, or our family is great; but no, we are not in a crisis.  This has not always been the case, of course, and I’m sure the future will bring its fair share of crises.  But I’ve come to learn something about the midst of a crisis… crises bring aid.  The messages and phone calls flood in, assuring you of many prayers offered on your behalf.  Special offerings may appear in your account to help lighten a financial burden.  Certain crises may even warrant an in-person visit to sustain you physically, spiritually, emotionally, or mentally – someone to see you through the worst.  Praise Jesus for those who step up in a crisis and become important to us in ways they may never know.  But the days that turn into weeks, then months, then years, and even decades, are long.  And sometimes, even without the crises, those days leave us discouraged and doubting, feeling quite forgotten.  The prayer letters stay “up beat” because really, who wants to read a report such as “Not too much has happened this month, but we are still here.” The tilling, the sowing, and the watering take much of our time, energy, and enthusiasm, and if we are honest, we never do as much reaping as we would like.

At the beginning of this week, we appeared in the lobby of a beautiful hotel, suitcases in hand, three kids “electric” with anticipation, and were greeted by fellow believers who squeezed us tight, prayed for us and with us, advised us from their wealth of wisdom and experiences, filled our cups with truths from God’s Word, and simply said, “I get it, but keep after it.” We are humbled and grateful they stepped away, momentarily, from their very real lives – loved ones facing oncologist appointments, grand babies getting biopsies, and other struggles they did not even share with us, to do what we so often do – wait by the phone for news, feeling just a little helpless on this side of the ocean.  The week flew by too quickly, as time does only when you’re having fun!  Tomorrow we will begin the drive back to our “somewhat ordinary days that turn into weeks, then months, then years” with a little more wind in our sails and a little more giddy-up in our step, having reconnected with a little bit of “home” and having received the ministry of the Word. How blessed and grateful we are.