Articles

Are you a missionary, a mom, a wife, a teacher, or what?” This was a fairly routine question as we traveled widely to minister in churches around the U.S.

I am a third-generation missionary. My grandmother rode yaks in Tibet. And my mother rode jeeps in Indonesia. Missions is in my blood, a heritage I wish to pass on to my three daughters. Women did as much, went as far, and died on the fields as often as their male missionary peers.

Jews who believe in Jesus have been the perennial Rodney Dangerfields of evangelical Christianity—they get no respect. Their nonbelieving Jewish brethren have long denied their very existence. In recent years, as their growing numbers have been impossible to deny, they have been excoriated as Jewish heretics.

Balancing family and ministry is a continual challenge for all married missionaries (men, too!). For me, two things have been key—priorities and discipline.

Field-based research on Venezuelan cultural presuppositions.

Three principal areas to look at when talking about mobilizing Christian Africa to touch the world for Christ.

Years ago, the first time I shoved my way through the crowds to Speaker’s Corner in London’s Hyde Park, the speakers lived up to my anticipation. Virtually every religious and political dogma was extolled with evangelistic fervor.

Some ideas about how to handle stressors common to missionaries: language study, culture shock, discouragement, loneliness, burnout, and depression.

Like most missionaries, I thought I was ready for culture shock, but my preparation didn’t help me at all.

We had been in the States on furlough for over a year. Our last term on the field had been unusually grueling. Any tired missionary fresh home on furlough suffers some stresses of psychological readjustment. But, ordinarily, a year is ample time for one to be refreshed, restored, and highly motivated to return.