When you get back from wherever you went, wherever you now are will put you in a situation where you will suffer in a number of ways. For folks from the good ol' U.S. of A., the shock of re-entry into American society can be so overwhelming, that a real case of depression is likely to set in for a number of reasons. Now, not all mission trips are the same. For example, many medical teams work day and night at clinics set up in villages, and then go straight home. Or, a team shows up in a mountainous region to build a church or school where again, the work begins at the crack of dawn and lasts until evening. Take a cold shower, wake up, repeat. I personally have not had these experiences--mine have been quite different; but even so, speaking to the depression or "blues" that sets in after any type of mission trip is something which is warranted by the mere experience of having gone. What temptations will befall you, having been to an impoverished land, having loved people not of your own color or race or religion or culture? A number of things should be remembered for re-entry to American life, so as to cope better with the awful reality of the mental maladies which waylay the weary traveler.
One example is that you will be excited about your trip--you visited widows and orphans in their homes and brought them hope through a child sponsorship ministry; you met a man who dreamed a dream about Jesus Christ and converted, having told stories of miracles in his village; you aided in the surgery for a little boy with a cleft palate; you held an orphan and bonded with her and held her hand on a long, pleasant walk to her tiny mud home; you were hugged and kissed by a woman in tears as a reward for the simple task of bringing her a few week's worth of food, and on and on and on. You met this person, you met that person, you saw this, you saw that.
But here's the thing: while you will have many stories to tell, not everyone will be interested. Some people will be--that is a fact. But some people will not be--and these will be people you care most about--people in your own family, whether immediate or otherwise. Perhaps this is because they don't know what to say to you. They know you've had a strange, traumatic, or even wonderful experience, but they may not know how to interact with you. For example, I've taken a 3-year-old girl with a protruded anus away from her mom's boyfriend. This little girl needs surgery or she will die. She and her mom both are HIV+. Another example is the story I recently heard of a 3-year-old girl who was raped at her school, but because the boy was not able to perform this function, he used a big stick instead, causing damage to the genitalia via inflammation and fluid discharge . Or consider: the woman with AIDS who had her daughter when she was only 14, and now ekes out a living begging and getting food from the dump. And on and on and on it goes. A coworker came to me the other day, "Alright, Chris. Tell us what's going on. You've been moping around here for the past week, and you can't hide it. What's the deal? Is it Ethiopia?" You won't be able to hide it, so don't put on pretense.
"How was your trip?" "Was it good?" is what many people ask. You might be tempted to offer trite answers like "It was good," but I advise against that. A "good" trip does not capture the death and suffering you have seen, even if you did do some good. And you did. But here is what you need to expect: those closest to you will not show interest, or, if they do, it will not be much interest. You will be tempted to judge them for this and conclude that they just don't care about the suffering you've seen. You may be right, or you may be wrong. It is best to withhold judgment at this point, and leave the judgment to the Lord God Almighty. It will be very confusing to you as to why those closest to you aren't interested in your trip. You just may never know why this is so.
But here are some possible reasons for this disinterest...
Finally, if you are depressed about missing the people you love on the mission field, you need to talk to someone. Talk to your pastor, your friend, anyone. And let them pray for you. Let out all of your emotions, let out all of the anger and frustration, and do so with someone who is a good listener, who won't judge you and who will pray the Spirit's power over, in and through you. Cry. Cry alone in your room, and cry to your heavenly Father. Crying helps "get it out."
Well, there's a good place, I think, to start in dealing with the post-mission-trip blues. Other topics we'll need to discuss are: When you hate your culture after getting back, dealing with not communicating with the people you love who are over seas, general depression, & long-term life strategies for your mission-minded passion.
One example is that you will be excited about your trip--you visited widows and orphans in their homes and brought them hope through a child sponsorship ministry; you met a man who dreamed a dream about Jesus Christ and converted, having told stories of miracles in his village; you aided in the surgery for a little boy with a cleft palate; you held an orphan and bonded with her and held her hand on a long, pleasant walk to her tiny mud home; you were hugged and kissed by a woman in tears as a reward for the simple task of bringing her a few week's worth of food, and on and on and on. You met this person, you met that person, you saw this, you saw that.
But here's the thing: while you will have many stories to tell, not everyone will be interested. Some people will be--that is a fact. But some people will not be--and these will be people you care most about--people in your own family, whether immediate or otherwise. Perhaps this is because they don't know what to say to you. They know you've had a strange, traumatic, or even wonderful experience, but they may not know how to interact with you. For example, I've taken a 3-year-old girl with a protruded anus away from her mom's boyfriend. This little girl needs surgery or she will die. She and her mom both are HIV+. Another example is the story I recently heard of a 3-year-old girl who was raped at her school, but because the boy was not able to perform this function, he used a big stick instead, causing damage to the genitalia via inflammation and fluid discharge . Or consider: the woman with AIDS who had her daughter when she was only 14, and now ekes out a living begging and getting food from the dump. And on and on and on it goes. A coworker came to me the other day, "Alright, Chris. Tell us what's going on. You've been moping around here for the past week, and you can't hide it. What's the deal? Is it Ethiopia?" You won't be able to hide it, so don't put on pretense.
"How was your trip?" "Was it good?" is what many people ask. You might be tempted to offer trite answers like "It was good," but I advise against that. A "good" trip does not capture the death and suffering you have seen, even if you did do some good. And you did. But here is what you need to expect: those closest to you will not show interest, or, if they do, it will not be much interest. You will be tempted to judge them for this and conclude that they just don't care about the suffering you've seen. You may be right, or you may be wrong. It is best to withhold judgment at this point, and leave the judgment to the Lord God Almighty. It will be very confusing to you as to why those closest to you aren't interested in your trip. You just may never know why this is so.
But here are some possible reasons for this disinterest...
- Is it because people are too consumed with being consumers in our consumerist culture?
- Is it because people are too frightened to ask about what you have seen?
- Perhaps they have no way of handling the information?
- Perhaps once they know your stories, they will feel impotent, and so they don't bother asking in the first place?
- Maybe they are skeptical about bringing about "real change" in the place where you went either through distrust of the ministry, or because they are generally pessimists?
- Perhaps they are too interested in their own lives and not in the kingdom of God and the mission of the church?
- Maybe they have no point of reference in understanding what you have seen?
Finally, if you are depressed about missing the people you love on the mission field, you need to talk to someone. Talk to your pastor, your friend, anyone. And let them pray for you. Let out all of your emotions, let out all of the anger and frustration, and do so with someone who is a good listener, who won't judge you and who will pray the Spirit's power over, in and through you. Cry. Cry alone in your room, and cry to your heavenly Father. Crying helps "get it out."
Well, there's a good place, I think, to start in dealing with the post-mission-trip blues. Other topics we'll need to discuss are: When you hate your culture after getting back, dealing with not communicating with the people you love who are over seas, general depression, & long-term life strategies for your mission-minded passion.
1 comments:
Good thoughts, my friend.
Another thought to add to the mix is that many Americans have a difficult time "going there;" that is, many of us have a difficult time with the really deep issues of life. So much of what we do is superficial.
We also live in a culture of affluence, and I think this produces an unconscious guilt. When we here of the suffering in the world, it compels us, on some level, to try to help. But really, not many of us want to dedicate our lives to alleviating suffering, so we'd rather not hear about it. And, quite frankly, the solutions to eliminating suffering are complex.
Much love and blessings to you. These are the kinds of missions trips that demonstrate Christ.
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