Living a Paradoxical Life
I was blessed to live and serve in Zambia, Africa as a missionary for nearly a decade. It was a life of surrender and growth. Through those years, I came to realize that much of the missionary experience goes unsaid — things that happen to you and within you that change you at a fundamental level, yet are difficult to communicate to those who have never lived it.
The missionary life is one of paradoxes that must be embraced in order to thrive on the field. Holding two seemingly contradictory truths in tension — truths that only reconcile through the work of God in our hearts — allows us to experience all He has for us and fulfill what He has called us to do. Here are some examples.
The Paradox of Insecurity and Excitement: When you first move to the field, you are starting over in every sense of the word — a new language, a new side of the road, even a new set of oven temperatures. It is overwhelming, often discouraging, and at times humbling to the point of embarrassment. Yet alongside all of that, there is a genuine delight in learning the rhythms of a new culture. You celebrate small victories, learn to laugh at yourself, and discover that being humbled is itself a gift. It reshapes who you thought you were and reveals who God is molding you to become.
The Paradox of Loneliness and Friendship: The missionary life is a lonely one. Close friendships are hard to come by, and your support system shrinks dramatically the moment you leave home. That loneliness touches nearly every area of life. Yet at the same time, you are constantly building relationships — with the vendor at the market who helps you stumble through a new language, with neighbors, with ministry partners. Deep and meaningful connections take time, the cultural gap never fully disappears, but the relationships that do form are rich and real.
The Paradox of Need and Faith: There is a common assumption in the church that missionaries live by faith financially — and they do. But living by faith does not mean living on the bare minimum, even though that is often the reality. Missionaries witness God's provision in unexpected and remarkable ways, yet many are barely getting by. Personal finances frequently get funneled into ministry needs, and the family quietly bears the cost. It is a tension that is rarely talked about honestly.
The Paradox of Grief and Joy: The missionary life is marked by constant goodbyes. The weight of them accumulates over time, and it becomes tempting to hold back from deep investment in relationships you know will eventually be interrupted. Yet many goodbyes carry a hello on the other side — the joy of reunion after long absence. It is almost always bittersweet: grateful for those you’re greeting, aching for those you're leaving.
The Paradox of Guilt and Gratitude: Watching your children navigate difficulty in a cross-cultural environment is one of the harder aspects of missionary life. Many parents carry quiet guilt over exposing their kids to hardship — circumstances they themselves never faced and often don't know how to help their children through. And yet, there is also deep gratitude for the extraordinary life those same children get to live: going on safari, playing in ancient ruins, growing up with a wide and textured view of the world and God.
The Paradox of Worry and Confidence: Missionaries live with a constant awareness of expectations and worry that they’re not meeting them — those of their host culture as they fumble through unfamiliar customs, and those of supporters back home watching decisions from a distance. The weight of that scrutiny is real. And yet, underneath it, there is a settled confidence in God's calling. You may not always know how to explain your choices, but you know Whose you are and why you're there.
There is so much more that can be shared, but through all of this paradoxical living, growth happens in ways you never anticipated. God reveals Himself in striking and personal ways. Your capacity to love expands as you extend more grace to yourself and others. You learn that life rarely unfolds the way you imagined — and that God is faithful in every season without exception.