Reflections from Lockdown

If you haven’t yet read the first post about lockdown, hop over there and read it, “Missionary Life in a Pandemic.” Then, grab a cup of tea, or coffee and settle in because this post is a bit heavy and emotional. This one goes deep.

The news and regulations changed daily during lockdown, but for us, it generally all meant the same thing. Stay home. Don’t do ministry.

Our ministry is face-to-face and we can’t do that right now. Suddenly, our lives were empty except for language study. We study the language until our brains can’t even manage English anymore. So, when that’s all that’s left to do, our brains just flatline eventually.

What’s left after that? Not much. We are often bored. We are often lonely. In much of our training, we were told that loneliness is a common experience, but not like this. We are often misunderstood.

So, your brain can’t locate its own language files; your emotions are chaos; and you can’t remember what exactly you came to do. Then, your identity starts taking hits.

We had gotten distracted by the busyness of church ministry and simply existing overseas. We hadn’t noticed that we fed our sense of significance and worth by involving ourselves deeply in the tasks of being a “good missionary.” Believe me, there are lots of tasks and they are time consuming! We started measuring our success by these tasks.

When all ministry evaporated like a splash of water in hot season, we were surprised to find ourselves questioning our worth, potential and yes, purpose. We sit in our whirly office chairs with mush for brains wondering why we feel so depressed and empty. It’s made us ask hard questions and wrestle with our own hearts.

Three big questions to ask

Does what we do for God make us more worthy of his approval?

Because we’ve chosen to sacrifice our comfort, are our lives more significant?

Does God call us because he sees great potential in us to build his kingdom?

We need to honestly answer these questions. Where does our heart lean? If we choose to forego the Christian answers we know; and suspend the guilt so that we’re less afraid of what we feel, how would we answer?

If we are more worthy of God’s approval because of what we do, when we’re doing nothing, does that mean we are worth little?

If our lives are more significant because of our sacrifice, then what significance do they have when that sacrifice doesn’t mean anything?

If God does call us because of our potential, is he disappointed when we become weary or useless?

How does God respond?

God isn’t surprised by our answers. He knows our hearts better than we do. Our honesty is for us, not him. As we answer these in our own hearts, however ugly, messy and misguided the truth may be, God already knows and has since the beginning. That truth comforts us. If he hasn’t pulled away from us yet, he isn’t going to now just because we’ve acknowledged the sin in our hearts.

The truth is that God doesn’t approve of us any more or any less because of what we do. Jesus bought that for us on the cross. Jesus’s approval is our approval.

Sacrifice doesn’t make our lives more significant. Our lives are significant to God because he created us in his image. He wants us. If that wasn’t enough, Jesus willingly died for us out of love.

God most certainly didn’t call us because of our potential to build his kingdom. There’s lots of places in the Bible that tells us that God builds his kingdom. Not us. Because he loves us and wants a close relationship with us, he invites us to join him in the joy and the sorrow of doing his work. It’s part of knowing God’s heart. But, he’s not disappointed when I’m incapacitated. I’m in need of his help and work as much as the people he invites me to share Jesus with. I’m not just a shiny new tool for him to use (Go read “Just a Fearful Pawn” for a deeper look at this idea).

How do I answer the questions?

This is where it gets deeply personal for me. The truth that God knows and still accepts is powerful. It means that I can come into God’s presence feeling shame and unworthiness. I come timidly at first because I have been trained to expect more shame from the hands of God. I’ve been taught that the more sharply we feel our shame and guilt the more we will flee from its causes – the sins we commit. So I learned to accept shame and guilt from others as help, and to shame and guilt myself so that I become holier, and my sin becomes uglier to me. Guilt and shame were God’s methods of sanctification.

So, at first I come to God timidly, head bowed, with trepidation that I might actually feel worse through this encounter with God. Instead, I find kindness and love at God’s hands.

In my own practice and heart, the answers to the questions aren’t pretty. Sometimes, I am working for God for my own satisfaction and to soothe the feelings of worthlessness and insignificance. It’s only partially out of love for God and compassion for others. I answer the questions from the deep place in my heart that chants, “You’re broken and unworthy.” This is the place I most frequently live in.

I take these selfish motives and the shame I feel for them into the presence of God. He sees them for all their ugliness and loves and comforts me. That steals the power away from the shame. Because I’ve experienced such love, I’m more motivated to work from love than selfishness and pride. The deep work is to continue to abide in his love and return to his presence bravely.