Stop Flirting With the Mission Field

Perhaps you remember the experience all too well. You were in high school or college. You had been praying and asking God to bring you just the right girlfriend. There was this “one” girl you really liked, and in a sudden turn of events, it appeared that she really liked you, too.

Short glances turned into full eye contact with a little smile. Small conversations began to develop into lingering conversations. And her laugh? It was as if she was hanging on to every word that came out of your mouth. Finally, after collecting all this empirical evidence, you mustered up the courage to ask her out.

But she responded with the age-old reply: “Oh, I’m not really interested in dating anyone right now. It’s not you; it’s me.”

And as devastated and embarrassed as you were, the only comfort you could cling to was the “knowledge” that it wasn’t you.

“Phew,” you thought to yourself. “Well, at least we can still be friends, and perhaps she’ll change her mind sometime soon. There’s still hope.”

That is, until you catch that heart-piercing glimpse of her walking across campus, hand in hand with some other dude, not even a week later.

Yep. She did change her mind, but you weren’t part of it.

So, what was all of that? The connection, the deep eye contact, the laughter, the long conversations? Well, friend, she was flirting with you. Maybe she was bored. Maybe she just had a flirtatious personality. Whatever the reason, it wasn’t real.

Like the single and lonely dude praying for a girlfriend, those of us laboring in forgotten places are constantly praying and begging the Lord to send us companions and co-laborers.

When we get that email or phone call, and we begin having those long, drawn-out conversations, and the person starts letting us know that they, too, are “feeling” like they want to move forward, those of us who are already there can’t help but get excited.

But as someone who has spent hundreds of hours on the phone, responding to messages, and taking trips to meet people in person, I can tell you that many of these conversations amount to little more than flirting with the mission field.

And yes, it often ends in pain and disappointment.

Some people are simply bored. Others are playing the field, talking to you while keeping their options open. And a few will respond in disobedience. They believe they are called, but they just can’t bring themselves to pull the trigger, do the hard thing, and commit. So they don’t.

Whether you’re a pastor or an aspiring ministry worker, here are three ways you can stop leading us on.

1. Stop flirting!

There is a way to talk to people professionally, and there is a way to talk to people intimately. Don’t confuse the two. And certainly don’t speak intimately with people when you have no intention of pursuing the relationship your words seem to suggest.

What does this mean? It means don’t lead people on.

It may be playful and fun for you, but it’s hurtful to them. Don’t make people feel as if the Lord might be calling you to join them in the field when you know you have no real intention of moving, leaving your current post, or giving up your present comforts.

Pastor, doing so is to be unfaithful to the place where you are already in an intimate relationship: your current church.

There is nothing wrong with asking questions, exploring possibilities, or having honest conversations about what the Lord might be doing. But there is a difference between exploring a calling and entertaining a fantasy. Be honest with yourself, and be honest with those who are already laboring on the ground.

2. Stop wasting our time.

For those who are genuine and sincere, we would love to answer your questions and walk with you as you fast, pray, and explore this calling.

But for those who are simply curious, bored, or in need of attention, please be careful about tying up our time when we could be spending it in a thousand other places.

So many of the questions you’re sending us can be answered with a little research on a website. Do your own due diligence. Read, pray, count the cost, talk with your family, and consider what obedience might actually require.

Then, when the Lord leads you to take a step of faithfulness, and you’re genuinely willing to take it, let us know. We’ll be here for you.

Those of us laboring in forgotten places want to help. We want to encourage you, answer your questions, and walk alongside you as you discern the Lord’s leading. But we also have churches to shepherd, people to disciple, neighborhoods to serve, and work to do.

Please don’t confuse our willingness to help you explore a calling with an invitation to endlessly entertain the possibility of one.

3. Stop waiting for it to become easy.

So many of us are looking for greener grass while refusing to leave the warm sand of our comfortable beaches.

We have this idea that following the Lord to the mission field should be easy, exciting, and full of wonderful emotions. That’s what vacations are, not missionary callings.

In reality, every missionary I know who has followed God in obedience by faith has experienced some form of brutal obedience. Saying yes has come with loss, uncertainty, sacrifice, and the forsaking of what is comfortable and familiar.

Coming to labor in a forgotten place for the sake of the gospel will require you to pick up your cross, not have a bellhop take your cross to your room for you.

There will be moments when the excitement wears off, when the questions outnumber the answers, and when obedience feels a whole lot less romantic than it did when you first imagined it. There will be people who disappoint you, plans that fall apart, and seasons when the fruit of your labor seems painfully small.

That doesn’t necessarily mean you’ve misunderstood the calling. It may mean you’re finally beginning to understand its cost.

The question isn’t whether you can imagine yourself serving in a forgotten place. The question is whether you are willing to follow Jesus there when the romance of the idea gives way to the reality of the work.

Stop flirting. Start following.

Friends, the forgotten places of New England don’t need more people who are fascinated by the idea of missionary work. They need faithful men and women who are willing to show up, put down roots, love their neighbors, serve their churches, and persevere when the work gets hard.

We aren’t looking for people who have everything figured out. We aren’t looking for people who have no fears or questions. And we certainly aren’t suggesting that everyone who explores a calling must eventually move to New England. Faithful discernment sometimes means discovering that the Lord is calling you to remain where you are.

But if the Lord is stirring something in you, don’t spend the next several years flirting with the possibility of obedience. Pray. Count the cost. Seek wise counsel. Talk honestly with your family and your church. And then, as the Lord makes the next step clear, take it.

There are neighborhoods where the gospel is scarcely known. There are churches that need faithful shepherds. There are men who need to be discipled, families who need to be loved, and communities that need the presence and witness of a faithful church.

The work is hard. The cost is real. But Jesus is worthy.

So stop flirting with the mission field.

If the Lord is calling you, take the next faithful step. And if He sends you, come ready to stay, to serve, and to spend yourself for the good of others and the glory of Christ.