A Secret Weapon by Rebecca Grove
The street was cold that night and the lights were blurring and smudging in my head, mixing with the stench of street food still cooking and on display for the thousands of people to enjoy. I think I saw a flying roach. My stomach began churning and then I caught whiff of some incense that made it erupt like a volcano. Welcome to Thailand. I’m currently at stage 5.
Photo by Connie Rock
There are seven stages to being a missionary. There’s the five year old dream (Stage 1) of stowing away in a suitcase and traveling the world with people passionate for Jesus who have everything together and are anointed by God… and the wind blows them everywhere with purpose and they are greeted with flowers and rice, and everyone they meet are willing to hear about Jesus and be transformed. Stage one is the dream.
Stage 2 is the preparation and the calling phase. God says, “Do you think you can do this? Do you want to do this? I’m going to lay an area or a certain people in your heart, and I’m going to make you burn for them.” The starry eyed dreams of phase one and the fervent burning of phase two prepare you to give up everything you love to go and serve.
Stage three is the “I’m making it happen” phase. The prepping, the choice of what ministry organization or church to partner with, the people you are standing in for in prayer and supplication, thanksgiving. Gathering information and radical training. Identity and empowerment collide in this stage giving you power to go with the fervency and devotion and dreams.
And there’s stage four. Good bye normal life. Good bye stilettos and cupcakes. Good bye comfort. I’m selling it all to live the dream. Who cares what my family thinks, what my friends think, what my culture thinks, and what doubts I have myself. I’m doing this thing. With or without health insurance.
Stage 5 is where it hits you. You get off the plane and nothing is like you’ve expected. You’re in some foreign country about to vomit, while some Thai people are squawking at you in a beautiful chicken like language you don’t understand. All that you know is that you are incredibly hungry for chicken, not the kind that’s hanging behind the funky popcorn machine looking thing looking half alive on the street of the Thai market. All of your starry eyed dreams have melted down to the fact that you’re scared crapless and surrounded by a bunch of awesome strangers, about to go into a bar to minister to ladies wearing close to nothing. All of a sudden the smell of incense blows by your nose and you have to swallow whatever is coming up your food tube before people start staring. This is the first mission trip.
Stage five either makes or breaks a person. I remember tears streaming down my cheeks in one of the bars because I felt so uncomfortable. The smoke, the noise, me wanting to rescue people that didn’t really want to be rescued (some did..but it wasn’t like I dreamed when I was 5), and me failing at keeping a game face because I was in shock. Complete shock. Living a life of purity is easy, because I don’t expose myself to anything different. Reading the sex menus and watching girls that I didn’t believe to be of age to be dancing in bars..do their thing…well that was a lot to swallow. All while smiling. And trying to swallow whatever was coming up my throat.
This was my stage 5. I wanted to lay hands on every person I saw, I wanted to go back for the 1 (or in my case, 50), I wanted to prophesy over people that couldn’t speak my language, I wanted to…do what missionaries do. But that isn’t what I came to Thailand for.
On my way home I kept tripping. Every curb, every step, I even hit my head on the door on the way into our quarters because I was so overwhelmed. The beauty of the culture and the lack of a certain comfort kind of pulled me in opposite directions. What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I minister to them? Why did I feel like I was in the wrong place?
So, I did what every mature missionary does. I curled up in a ball on my bed, squeezed my teddy bear and started praying. Papa was laughing. “Um, excuse me?! This is gross. Stop laughing, God.” More lauging ensued. I felt His presence wrap around me and bring me so much joy that I couldn’t handle it.
And then I started recollecting the people that I saw on the street. The eye contact, the smiles, the warmth they had that I hadn’t seen in any culture before, but the sadness that was hidden beneath… I laughed?! More of His presence wrapped around me and kept me warm. I laughed more. I felt Him whisper: “We’ve come such a long way, and we are only beginning! Come and pray with me. Come and rest with me. Come and dream with me.”
I began interceding and all of the false hopes I had since I was five faded away into this beautiful reality: the fervency, the burning.. this alone is what brought me to Thailand. And the only way it was relieved, was by praying.
You see, Stage 5 is different for everyone. To some, men gain courage to step out of their comfort zones and lay hands on the sick or sing in front of hundreds, to preach the truth in a dangerous place, to gather and help children that have no way of surviving on what little they currently have.. all after the honey moon phase goes away. For me, it was receding in the arms of Jesus and interceding for my team and for the area.
Some people don’t make it out of stage five. Being a missionary is hard. People go home, or they go to 6.
Then stage 6 comes. This is the stage of strength. Rising up and operating out of love instead of the hype. For me, it was intercession. I’ve been called to Thailand to pray for my team, to prayer walk, and to support. As soon as I understood this, all of the jet lag disappeared magically, my stomach straightened up, and the incense actually smelled good. I was equipped.
Stage seven is something I haven’t reached. Its that place you get to after you’ve been in the field a really long time and you begin growing with the people you touch. Its where you don’t feel at home unless you’re with them. Wherever they are or whatever they’re going through. This stage is for the long term-ers, the world changers… when the line between home and abroad is smudged and you become part of the scenery instead of just observing it.
I need to get real about something for a moment. Intercession, prayer walking, its important. At first I wasn’t sure if anyone would accept me. Acceptance was part of my stage 5. But the truth is, we need more intercessors in the battlefield with us. Prayer unlocks the gate so that the Spirit can freely flow in. It releases areas so that seeds can be planted and people can be receptive. I felt embarrassed that God called me all the way to Thailand to intercede at first, until I understood how important it is. Wherever you are, whoever you are, don’t stay at home and hide in your prayer closet. We need you in every country. Every team needs you. Every battle needs a secret weapon, and that’s exactly what a prayer warrior is.
My stage 6 is great. I’m proud of who God made me to be, what I experienced on the most memorable week of my life, and what I now understand about being part of a team and of a body.
