Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

missions

Misguided mission: Review of Dangerous Territory by Amy Peterson

I am not, nor have I ever been, a missionary. Not in the travel to far-off places and share the Gospel sense. Still, I have a bit of wanderlust and a desire to do important things. Which must be why I connected with Amy Peterson’s story in her spiritual memoir, Dangerous Territory: My Misguided Quest to Save the World. (To be clear, this is not just a book for missionaries or would-be missionaries or young people because I am none of those things!)

Peterson’s account of her time teaching English in Southeast Asia and events that led to trouble in her host country, as well as her deconstruction of the faith she’d grown up with is relatable and engaging. It is not a hero’s story but a humble retelling of finding God again and learning that all service to Him, no matter where, no matter what, is important and part of the kingdom work of restoration. (Disclaimer: I received a copy of the book from the author. Review reflects my personal and honest opinion.)

That stories like this exist give me hope that future generations will be encouraged to live a spiritual life wherever they are or are called to, whether that is somewhere across the ocean or down the street from their childhood home. Peterson’s struggle to find meaning and purpose in staying instead of going is a much-needed story in a world that continues to value the big and bold steps of faith.

She writes early in the book about her expectations:

Sermons about lives full of dedication to God rarely made daily floor-sweeping an example of dedication. They seldom lauded people who responded to e-mails punctually and thoughtfully. They didn’t praise those who regularly attended conferences for professional development and stayed up-to-date in their fields.

I wanted an extraordinary life, flush with spiritual vitality and adventure, a life fully committed to God. I wanted to be the greatest.

We do a disservice to believers of all ages when we elevate certain expressions of spirituality above others (missionaries and pastors, for example). And Peterson comes to the realization through trials and silence that maybe she had it all wrong.

“What if God didn’t want me to be useful? Could I surrender to that? Was I willing to be useless for God?” (182)

That’s a question I’m sitting with personally. Maybe God doesn’t need me to do, do, do all the time. Maybe I can just “be” and that’s enough.

Her conclusions by the end of the book are ones I’m making as well. I’ll share more about that when I join the author’s blog link-up to celebrate the book’s launch.

Even though it’s applicable to anyone deconstructing their faith or who has ties to missions, I’d call this one a must-read for anyone new to missions or considering missions for longer than a short-term trip. It’s a realistic and honest look at what it’s truly like “on the field” and not the kinds of stories you typically hear from visiting missionaries during a church service.

 

When failure is a good thing: Review of Assimilate or Go Home by D.L. Mayfield

I’ve casually followed D.L. Mayfield’s writing for a few years, drawn to her essays on downward mobility and living in neighborhoods predominantly populated by those living in poverty. I couldn’t wait to read her book Assimilate or Go Home: Notes from a Failed Missionary on Rediscovering Faith because these are the sorts of memoirs I need right now.assimilategohome_2d

I was surprised to discover that the book is based on her work with Somali refugees in the Pacific Northwest. I wasn’t aware of her work with refugees before now, but maybe that’s because it wasn’t in my own line of sight until recently. It was one more reason to love this book. (Disclaimer: I received a free electronic copy of the book through the BookLook Bloggers program in exchange for my review.)

Through a series of essays, Mayfield weaves her own faith journey with stories about the refugees she meets in her community. She wanted to be a missionary, and while she was waiting for the perfect time, she reached out to a Somali community and tried everything she could think of to help them and share the Gospel with them.

What happened isn’t exactly what she expected.

This is the story of how I wandered into the upside-down kingdom, of how I was converted and am still being converted every day.”

Instead of leading her new Muslim friends to Jesus, she discovered how very loved she is, without effort. Instead of becoming like the missionary heroes she idolized, she became a friend who learned to listen, receive, and celebrate, even when the outcomes were unclear.

And in the process, she shows the rest of us a glimpse of the kingdom of God, as it is now, not somewhere in the future. I think my favorite line of the book is this one:

A messy, present, incarnational love is the simplest and hardest call of all, the call that all of us were created to follow.”

The stories in this book are not neat and tidy, wrapped up with a happy ending bow. Some of her friends never learn to read English while she’s teaching them. Some of the girls get married young and have babies instead of pursuing education. Some of the neighbors don’t accept her family’s help or presence. That’s just reality.

But there are other stories of small victories. Mayfield writes:

It turns out that I am terrible at converting people the old-fashioned way, with logic and reasoning and concise tracts and fluid, poignant sermons. Instead, I have the much less interesting spiritual gift of showing up and sitting on couches, of doggedly arriving, gamely prepared to help in whatever crisis of the day, and eventually fading into a background player in a story that was turning out to be much bigger than me.”

For me, this book was a huge encouragement as I work with refugees in my own community. It reminds me that the seemingly small, seemingly insignificant acts of showing up, sitting with, and walking next to people are some of the most important.

I’d recommend this book for anyone considering ministry of any kind, especially college students or recent graduates. Granted, most of the things Mayfield learned can’t be taught any other way than through experience, but hers is a reminder that sometimes failing at one thing is the best thing in the end.