The Grief of a Missionary

"One unique aspect (for us missionaries) is the frequency with which we experience grief" / by Jon & Evelyn Siebert (from Issue #566)

by Jon & Evelyn Siebert

AS MISSIONARIES HERE IN CANADA, we share many similarities with other Christians in Canada who are boldly living for Him. We get up in the morning, prioritize time to spend with the Lord, and seek the leading of the Holy Spirit for our day.

However, one unique aspect is the frequency with which we experience grief and share in the grief of others. We have many friends and “family” among the First Nations people in many communities across Canada. In the last couple of years alone, it seems that every week, we hear of at least one, sometimes several, individuals we know who have died.

Sometimes, when the death is unexpected, it is much more challenging because the grieving process starts with a big hit. We experienced this when my stepmom passed away from a heart attack, having had no prior heart issues. We suddenly were grappling with such a mix of emotions—shock, sadness, peace, and questions. We grieved because we no longer had her with us, and Dad would now be facing life without the one who was looking after him. Yet we also were at peace because she never had to suffer.

We also experienced a mix of emotions when our granddaughter passed away. In many ways, our grieving had already been happening during her three years of life because she had many complex health issues. We could see her fragile health declining, so we were prepared, but we also felt the sadness and loss! We missed her cheerful signature smile. She was no longer there reaching up to ring the chimes that hung over her bed. As well as our grief, we saw the immense grief of our son and his wife and the family and friends who helped care for her.

We have felt much greater grief and heaviness when individuals died who it seems did not know the Lord. Some of these have been very tragic deaths, and many questions linger in our minds. We do not know if maybe they had made peace with God in the last moments of their lives. The uncertainty makes it hard because Scripture tells us that if they did not know God, their end will be hell. They will be forever suffering, separated from God, and we will never see them again. It feels like our grief is doubled in these situations.

There are also other kinds of grieving that we experience. We feel grief when someone we know turns their back on God and walks away from Him. We grieve when relationships are broken or we discover abuse has happened, or when the physical or mental health of someone close to us is severely altered. We have grieved when someone we are close to moved away and when we moved further away from friends and family.

Even though we experience many times of grief and loss, we have the joy of the Lord, joy in our ministry, and great rest in God’s sovereignty. Why is this? How is it that we are not depressed and down?

Three principles come to mind as I reflect on our own lives. These have kept us steady and able to continue with joy to serve the Lord.

(1) … The first is to recognize that God is with us, and as we spend time in His Word, He brings comfort, healing, and joy to continue. Jesus promised that His Spirit, the Comforter, would dwell in us to comfort and guide us into all truth. I experienced this when my mother passed away when I was 18 years old. How I cried, missed her, and grieved for all that could have been! I was just beginning to get to know her as a friend, and now she was gone. But I cried out to God many times, and He always brought comforting Scriptures to mind and a sense of His presence.

After losing his second adult child, a believer shared with us through his tears that Hebrews 13:5 in the Greek has a triple negative, essentially saying, “I will never, no never, no not ever leave thee, nor forsake thee.” God knows the depths of our grief and wants us to cry out to Him, draw near Him, and find comfort in Him and His Word.

(2) … A second principle for us has been recognizing the sovereignty of God. Even though extremely hard things happen to us, God knows, allows it, and uses it for our growth. Our response to these hard things is our choice; will we allow it to make us bitter or better? God desires us to become better—to grow in Him and become stronger and more trusting in Him. We have often thought of Job, who lost everything. Yet there is not a hint of bitterness but rather trust in Almighty God when He says, “Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him” (Job 13:15). We may not always know the reasons why God allows what He does but we can know it is always ultimately for our good, for our growth in Him, and for His glory.

(3) … The third principle for us has been to remember that we are running a spiritual race. Hebrews 12:1,2 tells us to lay aside the weights that hold us back and look forward to the prize ahead, as Jesus did. We need to keep our focus right, “looking unto Jesus,” and always check if we are putting aside the things that hold us back. If we do not do this, our grief can be like a rubber band that keeps pulling us back. We will be held back from all God has for us today and in the future.

To be clear, there is definitely a need for acknowledging, feeling, and working through grief. For some, this may take longer than for others; we all grieve differently. God genuinely cares for us and understands our need to grieve. But this is not where we should stay and dwell. As believers, we are called to grow in our walk with God, to live our lives in ministry to others, and to live for God’s glory.

This life here on earth will always have grief and loss, but one day, this will be no more. We will be taken up with the glory and majesty of our Saviour and the heaven He has prepared for us for all eternity. The challenging times we go through here on this earth will be but a speck on the timeline of eternity, and we will be forever with the Lord! Let us set our sights on our Saviour!

Jon & Evelyn Siebert have been missionaries with NCEM for 40 years, and serve as NCEM’s Field Administrators.

(from Northern Lights issue #566)