In the thick of things

I was pulling away from our local supermarket in Japan when from the back seat came the tentative confession of our teenager, “I took a bunch of pills today.” The world seemed to pause to let my unbelief emerge into this unsettling reality. The pastels of dusk were peeking above the apartment buildings across the street. My hands tightened on the steering wheel. The right blinker was deafening as our car sat motionless in the middle of the parking lot.

We were die-hard church planters in Japan. A favorite line when speaking at partner churches was “We’ve got the greatest job in the world!” My calling from God, since the age of 13, has been to overseas missions; and since the age of 20, after spending a summer in tight quarters with a Japanese pastor’s family, it has been about serving in Japan. Sure, there were challenges, but nothing got in the way of living out this calling. But this was different.

We found a Christian mental health organization based in Thailand that offered online therapy and immediately got weekly sessions for our child. An online Christian psychiatrist offered support, and we found a mental health clinic in our city that was able to dispense antidepressants. We reassessed schooling options and I began going out with our teen for weekly meetings over coffee to talk through the struggles and read through a workbook for teens on making good choices. My husband and I sought the counsel of our mission therapist in order to help cope with our own struggles.

But our teen did not get better. The medication, we later learned, was too conservative to be therapeutic. Things only got worse. One morning we found ourselves racing to the hospital after a much more serious overdose of 30 pills. The young doctor took some blood and hooked our teen to an IV. After hours of waiting, he called us back in and pronounced to all of us, including our child, “You’d have to take five times more than this in order to die.” Not the most helpful advice.

A needed home assignment

Thankfully, home assignment was coming up. Our family enjoyed a short vacation, and then we traveled to our mission headquarters for a debrief. As we shared with our member care team, we were advised to delay our return to Japan until our teen’s mental health situation had stabilized. We knew this was best and were thankful, in a way, to be “given permission” to stay. But we were also really concerned for our ministry and team back in Japan, our minds reeling with all the ramifications of this change in plans.

The Lord provided. Within a couple of weeks, we found a psychiatrist and a Christian therapist near us even though we were initially told it might take months. We enrolled our kids into a private school for the semester. Due to a cancellation, we could stay in our short-term missionary housing and keep our leased van for an extended period. Meanwhile, we continued to pray for healing and breakthroughs for our child.

That fall, we made three separate visits to the hospital emergency room to deal with our teen’s crises, one of which included a week-long suicide watch hospitalization. Our child was beyond miserable, and we were heartbroken.

As the weeks rolled on, there were no significant improvements, and we wondered if we might never return to Japan. We explored many options, including moving to another region in Japan where we might find better health care options. I made so many calls to various professionals, tracking down leads in hopes of a magic formula that would enable our return.

The school of God

In late March, we knew we had to make a decision. I had cried every day for a month, pleading with God to make a way back to the place of my calling. But he did not seem too keen to answer that prayer. We began to pivot toward staying in our home country. We set up a call with godly mentors in Japan. My honest hope was that, after explaining our family’s situation, they would suggest that we tell our child to buck up and allow us to get back to our real life in Japan.

But that is not what they said.

This is what has remained with me: “You are in the School of God. It is sometimes very painful. But God is so pleased with your willingness to sacrifice your own desires and calling for the sake of your children. I sense that he is so pleased with you.”

I did not feel very pleasing. I felt useless. My whole calling and identity as an adult felt wiped away. And then, our friend said, “Read Romans 12:1.” The next morning, I was alone at home. I opened my Bible and read the familiar words: “to present your bodies as a living sacrifice . . . which is your spiritual worship” (ESV). I got down on the floor on my knees, and I sobbed and I prayed and I held out to God my calling to Japan. Somewhere along the way, I had begun to think of this calling as mine. It had stopped being his. My life and Japan were all pressed together in my clenched fist, like clay formed into a misshapen idol. So I opened my hands and whispered prayers, giving back to God what had never been mine, acknowledging in a new way my holy calling as mother and all that might mean.

Lessons to share

We have resettled over this past year in our country of origin. We still have much to learn, but here are a few lessons we would like to share:

Let God work through family challenges to strengthen our families

My husband and I received a new round of marriage counseling and loved it! We pray together every morning before our day gets going. We are in this together, tighter than any ministry bond we might have shared before. This summer, we have had a skilled therapist lead our family through online counseling sessions. She guided us through prompts, such as: What is it like to live inside the body and mind of one who is neurodivergent? What is it like to live in that wake? We learned the term “glass children”—when there is a child with special needs in a family, sometimes the others can feel invisible. We are trying to process all these things.

Surround yourself with strong support

Zoom now opens up a world of options. During our first year back, a long-distance friend set up a support team. Every month, three dear friends (from three of my different worlds) set aside two hours for a Zoom call. I share; they give insights and pray. In addition, I have had support from two mom friends who have been missionaries in Japan and have children with mental illness. They get me. I talk regularly with friends with whom I served in Japan. They know me. Several friends and my sisters are on speed dial for when things are hard. There are local Japanese friends who have cared for us in very specific and amazing ways. These friendships have been vital pillars to my survival!

Be open to God’s shaping activity

These past four years have been a season of pain but also tremendous growth and inner change. I have a spiritual director who helps me reflect on what God is doing in my life.

Serving from scarcity

Just as Elijah asked the widow for the last of her flour and oil, so, too, it can be our privilege to serve from our scarcity. We are on the prayer team at our church, and we have so much more empathy for the hurting!

God is the blessed controller of all things

My mom had this verse (from 1 Timothy 6:15, Phillips) on her kitchen windowsill, and I have followed suit. I have struggled with truly believing this at times, but ultimately I trust in a sovereign God. This means that if moving across the world is best for one of our children, he will make it best for the rest of us. We can already see his amazing wisdom, even while we grieve what we have left. He has provided all that we need, including meaningful ministry for both my husband and me.

I would love to tell you we have come through the battle of mental illness on the other side. But we are still in the thick of things. Our teen has recently switched schools while continuing with ongoing care from mental professionals. Our beloved has received some very hard diagnoses with long-term implications. Suicidal episodes and my own propensity to catastrophize have led my mind to wander too far, too many times. We continue to pray for healing every single day. But in the midst of huge uncertainties, struggles, and fear, God has been very near. He has ministered to my heart in specific and beautiful ways, reminding me of his everlasting arms. And at those times when there is nothing left to hold on to, we are caught by him.