Mothers of missionaries know the tale well. Once upon a time, our children were babies: safely swaddled, a bundle of joy in our arms. Now they are missionaries: globe-trotting, gospel-sharing adults, ever precious to our hearts. How stirring to watch our children forsake earthly comforts to share the hope of Christ. He is their treasure, and for this we prayed.
Yet God’s kindness in answering our heart-cry can bring not only great joy but deep ache. In one palm, we cradle the tender delight of our child’s mission, while in the other we grasp the knife of separation. I miss him, I think as I drizzle cream into my morning coffee, or when I prayer-walk our neighborhood, or when I dice a bright orange bell pepper for his favorite dinner salad.
Although I miss all our children in this empty-nest season, a wisp of comfort has softly blanketed my heart: the solace of knowing I can turn the key in the ignition and reach any of them on any given day. Until now.
Humbled and Hurting
My son’s distance is a jarring reality, one that has sent me to my knees. Of course, other moms are kneeling too, imploring God not just to protect but to save their beloved children. I know the privilege it is that God is using my son to scorch the veil of darkness in a bleak, spiritually oppressed region, and I praise God for it. Yet during our family’s beach vacations, birthday parties, holiday celebrations, and backyard cookouts, my son’s absence cuts close to the bone. The fellows in our family are one man down as they toss the football in our yard or dissect college and NFL games. Their natural camaraderie, while beautiful, feels incomplete.
My four-year-old grandson repeatedly asks me where his uncle is. I scoop him up in my arms and perform our new ritual:
“Uncle Jacob is on a trip telling people about whom?”
“Jesus!” he says and hugs my neck.
The reminder is as much for me as it is for him. Yes, your missionary child and mine have said goodbye, and the deepest ocean could not contain our happiness at their humble obedience to God. Strangers, formerly dead bones walking, are made alive in Christ through the words and actions of faithful missionaries. Is anything grander than a sinner who repents and is saved? Yet we grieve our children’s absences in the recesses of our maternal hearts.
Toward a Quieter Heart
As the mother of a missionary, I have learned two things that are true at once: I am grateful for my son’s gospel-sharing heart, and I am burdened by his absence and weighty mission. So, may I encourage you, fainthearted mother, with five actions God has used to buoy and quiet my own flip-flopping heart?
WEEP
It is good and right to cry. Our child’s absence hurts because God designed us to feel grief at separation from our loved ones. Even Jesus wept (John 11:35). Goodbyes sting, but God sees our sadness and comforts us. As Psalm 56:8 says, “You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle.”
WAGE
After weeping, may we dry our eyes, asking with the psalmist, “Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God” (Psalm 42:5–6). Refuse to wallow. Wage war against self-pity and trust God, giving praise to him for our salvation, remembering that our present pain will seem like nothing when we stand with Christ in eternity (Romans 8:18). As we battle the temptation to curl inward, may we instead be gladdened by God and in turn comfort others who are hurting (2 Corinthians 1:4).
WORSHIP
Carve out time to praise God — daily. Worshiping God corrects our myopic vision as we shift our gaze to eternity with Christ. “Serve the Lord with gladness! Come into his presence with singing!” says Psalm 100:2. Adore God for who he is: Creator, Savior, Sovereign, the one who numbers the hairs on our head and the span of our days. We can be strong mothers, full of good cheer, because we worship Jesus Christ, who has overcome the world (John 16:33).
WALK
Step outside and inhale fresh air as you walk and pour out your heart to God. Pray for your family, neighbors, friends, church, and town, as well as your missionary child’s city. Lift your burdens before God while remembering that Jesus “is able to save to the uttermost those who draw near to God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them” (Hebrews 7:25). Thank God that your child is obeying Jesus’s commission. As you stretch your legs and glory in God’s nature, remember that “the prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working” (James 5:16).
WORK
God has graciously given each of us good work to accomplish (Ephesians 2:10). No matter the task, we are to do everything in his name, giving thanks to the Father through the Son (Colossians 3:17). As mothers of missionaries, we too have a gospel to share. Christ’s command to make disciples is a clarion call to all Christians everywhere (Matthew 28:18–19). Whether you are raising children, teaching school, working behind a desk, serving at your church, or babysitting grandchildren, share Jesus.
No Lone Missionary, No Lone Mother
Mother, if you feel fainthearted today, remember that you are never alone. God has filled you with his Spirit and will bless you with the joy of his presence forever (Psalm 21:6). In the good and the difficult days, may we remember our children are gifts that belong to God (Psalm 127:3), and may we seek comfort in Jesus’s last words before he ascended to heaven:
Behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age. (Matthew 28:20)
His promise is a balm for missionaries and mothers, too.
Desiring God