More Than a Cup of Coffee: The Church’s Guide to Receiving Back Missionaries

Arriving on the field, I was eager to learn my new local culture. There, morning coffee was made in a contraption called a Moka pot. This stovetop metal device unscrewed and was filled with water before being placed over a gas flame, where it would boil up through the finely ground coffee, collecting in the carafe at the top. The whole house filled with the aroma of strong, smooth espresso—ready to drink and start the day.

By two weeks in, I felt confident in my new morning routine. Or so I thought—until I moved from my temporary housing to a new apartment and suddenly began having trouble sleeping. It took a more seasoned expat to realize and show me that my new Moka pot made 6–8 shots of espresso, compared to the previous two. Mastering even this small custom was more of a learning curve than I could have predicted! Over time, though, I became used to making coffee this way—it became my default. What was once foreign had become familiar.

So when I returned to the US, I was eager to share this morning ritual with my family. My mom asked questions like, “How will that work?” and “Won’t it spew out the top?” Confidently, I assured her that I had become something of a Moka expert and that she had no reason to worry—I’ve got this. Fast forward a few minutes: the coffee was NOT behaving as it had every day for several years and was, in fact, spewing out the top, just as my mom had feared! Apparently, I did not “got this.”

I was suddenly overwhelmed. What had been familiar to me—something I had worked hard to master—was at once foreign again. And worse, I was feeling foreign in my childhood home, a place that had always felt safe. I felt incompetent at being European, and I felt incompetent at being American. It was disorienting, bewildering, overwhelming—and I felt helpless.

“Don’t cry over spilled milk” is an old adage—but what about spilled coffee? Is it okay to cry and grieve over? What is it like for missionaries to return to their home countries—after short-term trips, mid-term living, or decades of life spent making the foreign familiar for the sake of the Gospel? What do the griefs and overwhelm feel like for them? What do they need from their churches? What do they wish their friends, family, and community would do or say?

What does the Bible says about returning missionaries?

Antioch was among the earliest churches—Acts 11 says that the disciples were first called Christians there. It was the home church that Paul and Barnabas were sent out from as missionaries in Acts 13. And it was the church they returned to.

“And from there they sailed to Antioch, where they had been commended to the grace of God for the work that they had fulfilled. And when they arrived and gathered the church together, they declared all that God had done with them, and how he had opened a door of faith to the Gentiles. And they remained no little time with the disciples.”
—Acts 14:26–28 (emphasis added)

The earliest missionaries took time to “come home” during their years of service, and spent time with their church family, sharing all that God had done. The church sent them out, but it also received them and their stories—eager to care for them and worship God for what He was doing.

We have been gifted the testimonies of missionaries from Scripture, but in addition to that, we have testimony from modern missionaries. What do those who have gone say about their return? I had the privilege of interviewing six missionaries—men and women who had served all over the world, married and single, serving anywhere from 10 days to 37 years—and asked them a few key questions.

What was hurtful or painful about your return?

They expressed frustration and hurt when people referred to it as a “trip” or an “orphan tour,” or asked, “Aren’t you so glad to be back?” Our missionaries shared that they were still sifting through their feelings about returning, so words like trip and home brought up complicated emotions.

T shared, “It was really pretty hurtful every time someone asked, ‘How was your trip?’ Because I was coming back from a life-changing experience, and trip really minimized that. Or, ‘Aren’t you so glad to be back in America??’ Like, kind of? Not really?”

Similarly, other missionaries shared that it felt as if people hadn’t noticed their absence, or that they were “underutilized” upon their return.

What do you wish would have happened differently?

Since these people are so different, I was expecting diverse answers—but what they wished had happened was simple: intentional contact and follow-up.

Answers ranged from:

• “I wish they had allowed me to genuinely share,”
• “I wish more people would have asked me to coffee or lunch,”
• to “I wish there were people at my church to check in on me and ask me to get weekly coffee,”
• to “I wish more people cared enough to take me out to coffee and ask me about the people I left that I loved. I wish people continued to ask questions about the things I experienced and the way God moved.”

Our missionaries want to be asked to share and an intentional space to do so.

How did your church and family do a good job? What were the things people did and said that were healing?

Our missionaries overwhelmingly stated that they needed to share their experiences with others—sharing the photos they took of the people, the places, and the customs that had been home; sharing from the pulpit or in missions celebrations; or just sharing one-on-one.

T shared that he needed “someone who was available enough to make time for me, to sit with me and listen to my stories and questions.” Availability of friends, family, and the church was a common theme.

L mentioned her family showed they were available for her: “They made sure I knew I had a place to return to and belong with them and yet somehow never put pressure on me to stay. I knew they were telling me, ‘No matter where you go, you’ll always have a home with us.’”

What do you wish church understood better about returning missionaries?

They asked the church to understand that this transition was jarring, and that reverse culture shock was harder than their initial move overseas. They urged churches to actively and intentionally participate in a debrief with their missionaries, noting that many returning missionaries might need pastoral, informal, or formal counseling.

A shared, “I felt like two separate people at times. And I wish the church had helped to remind me more intentionally during that transition exactly who I was in Christ.” And D, who served for nearly four decades overseas, urged the church to be “patient and encouraging, as we learn our way around again,” noting that “we are available and willing to share and serve, and we enjoy interaction with people as people.”

It is clear from these answers that well-meaning churchgoers want to know about their returning missionaries. Their hearts are in the right place. But the overarching theme after talking to these missionaries is that the American church is too easily satisfied with a simple answer from their missionaries, rather than diving in deeply with them.

Instead, well-meaning churchgoers, friends, and pastors can express how glad they are to see their returning missionary—and ask how they are doing. Ask if there’s a time to sit down with them and hear more about their experience.

What does this look like practically?

1. Don’t be satisfied with a two-minute conversation, opt instead to carve out an hour for coffee or a longer meal.

2. Don’t be satisfied with an oversimplified question like “How was it?,” and don’t be intimidated by not knowing what to ask. Here are some options:

• Who were some of the people you met?
• Can I see your pictures?
• Did you have any “culture fails?”
• What is something you overcame that you’re proud of?
• Where did you sense God moving?
• What is a way that you see God more fully now because of experiencing a new culture?
• When did you struggle the most spiritually?

3. Don’t be satisfied with just hearing from your missionaries, please take a little time to pour back into their exhausted spirits.

• Pray for them and with them.
• Remind them who they are to you and your community
• Remind them who they are in Christ
• Remind them that they have a safe home with you
• Churches, offer to support them with formal or informal counseling resources as available

Our missionaries are in agreement, their deepest desire is to be heard and understood by their family of faith.

Their experiences might have been foreign, strange, or bizarre, but they aren’t. They don’t need perfect churches, friends, or family, just available ones. Be with them as they show you their version of the Moka pot. Let them cry over their spilled coffee. Offer a hug, help them clean it up, and celebrate with them as they learn to successfully adapt, again.