A Jon Post
When he was young, about the age I am now, he wanted to go. He even had a location he felt the Lord had put on his heart. China. He bought and read many books about missions in China, the Chinese culture, the Chinese language, all of them still in his library bookcase today. He was passionate. He was unafraid. He was going.
Father and Son
But the timing wasn’t right. He got married, he started a family, and he was VERY good at his engineering job. He went on a short trip to Taipei, but the long term vision changed.
I came along after a few years. Growing up under his love, care, and stern hand of discipline, there was nothing I wanted more than his approval and pride. I wanted to be a veterinarian; I wanted to be the President of the United States; I wanted to be a basketball player; I wanted him to tell me “Well Done”.
I was 14 and, for the first of many times, I went to Africa. I found something that grabbed me even more than all the others: I wanted to be a missionary in Africa. I went back 5 times over the next 6 years. I could feel the purpose and meaning in what I was doing. The Lord put something on my heart much like He did my father’s so many years ago.
My father was quick and faithful to show me how much approval and pride he had in my heart to go. I never doubted that he supported me completely.
In the purpose and meaning I found in being “a missionary”, I started wondering, “Why didn’t my dad do this?” I knew he had wanted to when he was younger. I just thought he had compromised on what the Lord had put on his heart. I let pride well up in my heart. I thought “Well, where my father failed I will succeed.” I even implied in conversations with him “Everyone should be like me! You should be going to China as a missionary!”
It’s been 13 years since I first went to Africa. I am married now and I’m doing what I set out to do. I’m “a missionary in Africa’.
Next step? Starting a family. My wife and I are planning to have children soon. I will be a Missionary Father.
Now, in my travels and my church experience I’ve noticed that children of missionaries tend to struggle mightily. We all know it’s true. Yes, there are some terrific successes in missionary parenting, but in general these kids are miserable people. Growing up as children of these “overseas missionaries” must be a very hard thing to do. As I look to become a missionary father I have started looking for ways to avoid some of the pitfalls that seem so common in my line of work.
I’ve talked to missionary parents about this and I’ve talked to missionary children about this. Both success stories and failure stories.
And I realized something.
I know what it means to be a missionary father.
I’ve always known what it means to be a missionary father.
He comes home from his day job every night by dinner time.
He prays over his children as he tucks each one of them into bed at night.
He sets weekly time aside to join his children in their lives: Sleepovers, sports teams, cub/boy scouts, daddy/daughter night out, family camping trips.
He never misses big events in their lives (as defined by his children not by him): Birthdays, losing little teeth, graduations, achy tummies, sports games, scary thunder.
He loves his wife extravagantly and shows his children.
He disciplines sternly and consistently and lovingly.
He plays with his children often.
He works with his children around the house.
He shows his sons what it means to be men.
He shows his daughters what it means to be loved and respected.
I have always known what it means to be a missionary father.
I grew up with one.
His missionary heart never wavered. It never compromised in its strength or passion. He just realized what most “missionaries” never do.
His mission was me.
I know now what it means to be a missionary father: I am a missionary to my children. Everything else is just my 8-5 day job in comparison.
Ministry outside my home will never be as important as ministry in my home.
My father taught me that.
I’ll be a missionary father soon. I hope I make mine proud.
