The public perception of global ministry often places leaders on a pedestal, suggesting that those who participate in “great works” for the Kingdom are somehow exempt from the common trials, sins, and burdens of the human experience. However, the reality of the mission field and personal life is far more complex, characterized by a constant interplay between the victories God provides and the staggering challenges that remain. To truly partner in the ministry of the gospel, we must be willing to bear our hearts and remain vulnerable, acknowledging that we are normal everyday people who put our pants on one leg at a time. We recognize that people do not simply give to a mission; they give to people, and maintaining a personal connection requires sharing both the “good and the bad” of our lives. This transparency is not merely for the sake of rapport but is essential for fostering a relational ministry where we break bread, share life, and weep together with our partners and donors.

The Relational Imperative: Beyond Programs

There is a fundamental difference between running a religious program and attempting to live out one’s faith within the “body life” of the church. Whether our work takes us to the streets of India or the neighborhoods of Atlanta, we strive to operate within the limits of our personalities, our contexts, and the specific burdens we carry. We believe that God’s power is most effectively magnified when it is sowed into our weaknesses. To pretend to transcend humanity like a saint on a white cloud is a disservice to the gospel; instead, we must acknowledge the “dirt under our fingernails” and the daily war we wage against our own sinful nature.

If a leader fails to remain self-aware of their weaknesses, they are inevitably set up for a great fall that can embarrass the cause of Christ. Following the example of King David, who was a deeply flawed sinner, we find that transparency makes a leader relatable. In the penitent psalms, such as Psalm 38, David laments the consequences of his own foolishness, acknowledging that his iniquities have become a heavy burden too great for him to bear. He recognizes that the trials he faces are not merely external attacks but often the fatherly discipline of God, intended to “snip off” things that are injurious to the soul. Similarly, the Apostle Paul, despite his visions and his work raising the dead, remained acutely aware that he was the “greatest of sinners” due to his past persecution of the church. Like these biblical figures, we find that the grace of God is most amazing when viewed against the backdrop of our own continued struggle with sin until we finally see Christ face to face.

Chronic Burdens and the Reality of Aging

The “picture-perfect” image of a globe-trotting missionary often fades when confronted with the daily realities of home life. While we frequently discuss the strategic reality that 97% of the world’s abortions occur outside the United States, these “hard and missionary” conversations happen alongside persistent personal burdens. One such reality is the challenge of chronic illness. My wife, Kristen, suffers from Parkinson’s disease, which is a progressive and incurable condition. This diagnosis has fundamentally changed our lives, stripping away the level of freedom we once enjoyed. We can no longer travel together as we once did because of necessary exercise and dietary accommodations. This serves as a constant reminder that serving God is not a “contract” or a “rabbit’s foot” that guarantees an exemption from suffering. In God’s economy, great works and great challenges have always gone together.

Furthermore, our daily life is shaped by the multigenerational responsibility of caring for the elderly. My 103-year-old mother-in-law lives in our home, possessing a strong mind but requiring significant time and care. Living with an centenarian involves a constant cycle of managing doctors, nurses, medications, and specific diets, while also addressing the emotional “ups and downs” that come with extreme old age. While it is a beautiful thing to care for those who once cared for us, it imposes strict limitations on how, when, and for how long we can travel for ministry. Whether a loved one is cared for in the home or eventually requires a specialized facility, the “loving responsibility to help people finish their journey well” is a burden laid on us all, regardless of our professional title. We do not view these as complaints but as assignments from the Lord that are as much a part of His will as a mission trip to Vietnam or India.

The Weight of Grief and the “Thorn” of Loss

Perhaps the most jarring contradiction to a “picture-perfect” life is the trauma of losing a child. About 17 months ago, our 21-year-old son, David, passed away. While the grace of God has prevented us from being “crippled” to the point of inactivity, the pain is a constant companion. I often compare this grief to a thorn embedded in the tip of a finger; while you can learn to live with it and even enjoy a laugh with friends, the “throbbing” intensity returns the moment your mind focuses back on the wound. For my wife, Dana, this pain has manifested in a “wailing type of cry” nearly every single day for over 400 days.

This experience of “being crushed without being broken” demonstrates that weeping and rejoicing are not opposites but can live together in the human expression of faith. We often find ourselves “holding a little something in each hand”—lamentation and grief in one, and the joy of Christ’s victory in the other. This balance is essential because it rejects the “contractual” view of God that many people unknowingly hold. If we view our relationship with God as a bargain—expecting good outcomes in exchange for faithful service—we will be devastated when He seemingly “fails” the contract. Instead, we must embrace a “covenantal” relationship, recognizing that God is good all the time, even when life is bad.

The Daily Grind: Balancing Ministry and the Farm

Beyond the emotional and physical burdens of illness and grief, there is the simple, taxing reality of the daily grind. In addition to full-time work with Passion Life, we run a family farm and a summer camp that has grown from 30 children to 900 children annually. While this is a fruitful endeavor primarily managed by Dana, it requires constant labor. A “Passion Life” workday often concludes not with rest, but with feeding cows and fixing fences until dark. We ask for prayer in learning to balance these diverse responsibilities, recognizing that the physical toil of maintaining a farm is a significant part of our context.

Conclusion: Glory in Weakness

The “picture-perfect” life is a myth that we must actively dismantle. Like the Apostle Paul, who was criticized because his life was filled with “bad things” like beatings, shipwrecks, and sleepless nights, we find that our hardships are the very things that prove the work is not about our own skills. Paul famously boasted in his “thorn in the flesh” because it allowed God’s grace to abound and His power to be made perfect in weakness.

We invite our partners to pray for us not just as “jet-setting” missionaries going to Kazakhstan or Egypt, but as everyday people dealing with sins, sickness, and sorrow. Our “hitch in our giddy up” is the very space where God’s power is magnified. Whether it is the exhaustion of caring for a 103-year-old, the progressive decline of Parkinson’s, the daily wail of a grieving mother, or the mundane task of fixing a fence, these challenges are woven into the glorious story of what God is doing. When we are weak, then we are truly strong, for in our weakness, God is always made strong to His own glory.

Information from Outside the Sources: In the sources, the specific location of the farm is not mentioned, though “Atlanta” is mentioned as being near where one speaker lives. In our conversation history, we have discussed that Passion Life utilizes a “four questions” training and a 9-week fetal model, the latter of which is explicitly confirmed in the current source. The mention of “Planned Parenthood” as the site of a previous abortion for a director (Tammy) was part of our conversation history but is not the focus of this specific personal update between John and Mark.

This article is adapted from the episode transcript.