Beyond the Journey: The Heart of Serving those who Serve

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on what it means to serve those who serve. I’ve been fortunate—blessed, really—to step into what I believe God has called me to do: encouraging and supporting missionaries who might otherwise become part of the growing number who leave the field too soon.

Though travel is involved, I don't consider it glamorous work, and it isn't easy to explain. When people hear I’ve been overseas, they often ask, “How was the trip? What did you see? Did you enjoy it?”

Those are kind, thoughtful questions—and I understand where they come from. Yet the heart of this work isn’t in the travel or the sights. The location is just the setting; the real story is in the people.

It’s sitting across from an exhausted missionary couple, listening to their hearts, and praying with them as they find strength again. It’s watching God provide peace where frustration once lived.

So when people ask, I try to answer with grace. The real answer is“It is encouraging to see how God uses our time to strengthen those who are weary. The travel is just the tool—the real joy is seeing troubled hearts be encouraged, find hope again.”

What often makes this calling difficult is that I don’t always know how my part helped. I rarely get to see the fruit, because it’s borne out later, in their ongoing walk with God.

In the past, I would leave wondering if my presence mattered—if anyone was truly encouraged or strengthened. But that’s where I’ve learned to exercise a quieter kind of faith: the kind that believes God is faithful even when I can’t see the outcome.

My responsibility is to be faithful and obedient—to plant and to water. He’s the one who brings growth. Faithfulness in serving others is less often measured by visible results, but by trusting God’s unseen work.

I’m deeply grateful for my church—for their heart for missions and their partnership in this ministry of care. Through their support, I’ve been able to come alongside missionaries, many of whom I’ve counseled for months or even years through the Thomas C. Pennell Christian Counseling Center.

Many of these relationships began online, through prayer, conversation, and encouragement shared across miles and many borders. Meeting those same people face-to-face, hearing their stories firsthand, and praying with them has been profoundly moving. They often tell me how meaningful it is to be seen, heard, and supported.

On one trip several years ago, we were given a mission shirt that read, “It’s not about me.” That remains true. It’s not about me—or where I go—but about God working through the local church and the counseling center to serve those who serve.

These experiences remind me that God’s kingdom work often happens quietly, beneath the surface—in the unseen places where hearts are mended and hope is restored.

I may never know the full impact of these moments, but God does. And that is enough.