Counting the Cost for the Sender

On a recent trip to the place where I served my Journeyman term, I went to the movies with a friend from the U.S., a friend from the place I served, and a friend who is a field coworker. All four of us love music and have connected over that. During a particularly poignant song about how the relationships we make change us “for good,” I began to get emotional. My friend who isn’t a believer put her arm around me, and my friend from the States watched in support, which did not help me be any less emotional. I recognized that not only had I been changed by being on the field, but my unbelieving friend had also been changed by my relationship with her. My friend who sent me and supported me wasn’t exempt from these changes either; she had made great sacrifices to support me in God’s call.

When a person or a family is considering missionary service, they’re encouraged to count the cost—a tally of the potential sacrifices—and to make a decision about whether or not it is “worth it.” But what about those not called? What about the friends and family who stay in the places and communities missionaries call “home”? The neighbors, grandparents, coffee-run buddies, gym partners, potential business partners, and other community members will also be honoring God’s call on my life when I leave.

This is a love letter to those counting a cost they didn’t choose to pay.

Self-Denial

Missionaries embarking on their service often cite the verse, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me” (Matt. 16:24, ESV). The sent know that they will have to deny their own desires, but so do the senders. My mom will not have all of her children together on Christmas Day, my friends will not receive my RSVP of “yes” to their weddings, and my nieces, nephews, and all of the children who call me “LaLa” won’t have me consistently spoiling them with extra cash, cuddles, or sugar. In these situations, God is calling both the sent and the sender to deny their own wills for His. This is a painful sacrifice that may be asked of you over and over again.

Comfort of Community

Before my Journeyman term, I led a small group of women in their twenties and thirties. We created deep and trusting relationships through weekly faithfulness and vulnerability, knitting us together. But, as anyone who has walked through their twenties knows, that season is transient. Someone gets the dream job, someone gets married, someone gets called to the field. And when anyone close leaves, their absence is a sharp pain. Because we put in hard work to knit this nice and comfortable relationship, the loss of it is the loss of comfort.

Zealous Leadership

Those who go to the field must be firm in their commitment, leaders by nature or nurture, and zealous in what they do. Our churches in the U.S. benefit from members who bring this type of commitment, spirit, and leadership to our fellowships. When a church member is sent out by their church, the church has less of this leadership in its day-to-day ministries. Churches must pay this cost in order to fulfill the Great Commission, for the call of the church is to gather and scatter.

Risk of Lost Relationship

It isn’t always easy to coordinate schedules, figure out time differences, decide which phone number to call or app to use, or know which words you’re not supposed to type out. It isn’t easy to remember the cast of characters in their stories—people you’ve never met—or to understand what they’re saying about a culture so different from yours. It is hard to know whether they’re doing well or struggling, and harder still to send the right support at the right time. It is difficult to maintain a relationship at a distance. Sometimes it feels easier not to put in the effort and to let the relationship slide into an occasional text, shared reel, or social media “like,” and to feel as if that is sufficient. Those who are sent and those who send risk losing these relationships if they are not maintained. That risk is a sacrifice; the effort and intentionality required cost us both.

Senders, press in.

Sent, the work is not yours alone—acknowledge those back at home who love you well by putting forth this effort!

Senders, might I suggest that you pay the cost of this sacrifice in prayer? When you wish you didn’t have to deny yourself, pray that the sent would be strengthened in denying themselves. When you feel the discomfort of new relationships, pray for the new relationships with unbelievers they are forming. When a church feels the absence of its zealous leadership, pray that their leadership would be strengthening the global church. When you’re afraid that your relationship might not endure, pray for the loneliness they are certainly feeling on the field. Press in to truly know your friend’s life overseas and the people they serve.

While we both—the sent and the sender—count a great cost and make a great sacrifice in order for the gospel to be made known, we are not without hope. Grace, patience, intentionality, and technology allow our love for one another to continue, deepen, and grow even across great distances. We hold on to the truth that one day we will spend eternity together, along with all tribes, tongues, and nations.