You are a treasure

Recently, for the first time since committing to missionary work in 2012, I found myself wondering, “What will I do if I quit being a missionary?” It had been a difficult couple of years, and I had been feeling drained, unmotivated, and tearful for some time. I always thought I was resilient, but this time I could not bounce back. Thoughts about the future filled me with dread and despair, and I could not see myself thriving, let alone surviving as a missionary in the long-term.

A friend first noticed something was amiss when we chatted over the phone. “It sounds like burnout and situational depression,” the medical advisor said to me. After consulting my team, the OMF leadership, and a medical advisor, I was counselled to take leave for recovery from burnout. Friends from Kansas (US) generously offered to host me for three months. I arrived in Kansas feeling like I was walking through the valley of the shadow of death, but God met me in the shadows.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want

I did not know what I needed, but God knew. The Good Shepherd led me to green pastures and quiet waters (literally and spiritually) and provided far beyond what I could imagine or ask.

As I meditated on his Word, taking long walks, reading, and journaling, God began to restore my soul. As I was sitting by a lake watching the sunset one evening, the beauty of the scenery filled me with pleasure. “The Lord your God . . . will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing” (ESV). These words from Zephaniah 3:17 came to mind, and it struck me that God delighted in me even more than I delighted in his creation.

I experienced God’s love through his people. Friends I hardly knew poured into me. A family hosted me in their home in beautiful surroundings next to a lake. Others invited me to their homes, treated me to meals, and drove me around. They listened to me, cried with me, and prayed for me. Up to now, I knew God loved me, but I had lived as though his love depended on my godliness and service. It was when I could not perform that I experienced his unconditional love.

Friends spoke God’s truth into my life, saying, “You are a treasure” and “We have enjoyed you.” A couple I stayed with regularly expressed their love for me. They noticed and acknowledged my strengths and gifts and communicated their appreciation for my input and help, however small and insignificant. Over time, the love and truth of these words began to seep through the cynicism and defensive walls of my heart.

Our words have immense power, both to destroy and to restore. As we speak God’s words of truth and love to people, we, too, can be part of his work in healing and building up the broken, the hopeless, and the downcast.

Perfect love casts out fear

“I constantly feel that I should be doing more and guilty if I am not being productive. I don’t want to be motivated by fear and guilt anymore. I want to serve freely knowing I am loved,” I shared with my counsellor.

I realized how much of my service was compelled by the need for approval and love. My ceaseless striving for godliness and selflessness was a vain attempt to suppress a deep sense of unworthiness and the fear of rejection.

“Perhaps your new ministry is to live out this newfound freedom,” my counsellor affirmed.

Many of my Japanese friends are weary and weighed down by the expectations and obligations of their family and society. Although it looks different, they similarly live in bondage. Initially, I was reluctant to tell my Japanese friends about my burnout because I feared being judged. Contrary to my expectation, I was met with compassion and vulnerability when I told them about my medical leave, and it gave me a glimpse into their honest thoughts (本音 honne). “I see love in the way your organization responded to your burnout,” my gym instructor said to me. While Japanese people appear resilient and bear with the rigidity of Japanese society, they desire something better. Their hearts desire love and compassion.

Several weeks after returning to Japan, I met a friend who was on the verge of burnout. As I shared about my burnout and restoration, she opened up about her struggles, and my story ministered to her. God uses us unexpectedly when we don’t have it all together. He speaks most powerfully through our brokenness and weakness if we are willing to be vulnerable.

My prayer and vision are that my life would point others to a different way, one of freedom and love in Christ.