Embracing the Reality of Pain: A Call for Mental Health Awareness in the Mission Field

Grief has a way of touching us in places we didn’t know existed. It’s heavy, consuming, unpredictable. It doesn’t fit into neat categories or timelines. And in the mission field, where global workers live in the tension of constant transition, cultural isolation, and spiritual warfare, grief often carries an added weight—one that can feel unbearable when faced alone.

As we process the recent loss of a beloved sister in Christ, we are reminded of the critical need to shed light on mental health within our community. Too often, missionaries are expected to “press on” for the sake of the gospel, putting their own emotional and mental well-being aside. But Scripture doesn’t teach us to ignore pain—it invites us to acknowledge it.

Acknowledging the Reality of Pain

Pain is not something to run from. It is not something to be dismissed or covered up with spiritual platitudes. God created pain, and pain serves a purpose.

Physical pain tells us something is wrong in our bodies. If we break a bone, we feel pain so that we know to stop and seek healing. In the same way, emotional and psychological pain is a signal that something in our hearts and minds needs attention. Ignoring it doesn’t make it go away—it only drives it deeper into the shadows.

Yet, in Christian circles, there is often an unspoken expectation that we must put on a brave face, that admitting struggle means a lack of faith. People throw out phrases like “God is in control” or “She’s in a better place” in an attempt to bring comfort. But true comfort comes from entering into pain, not bypassing it. Jesus Himself was called a “man of sorrows, acquainted with grief” (Isaiah 53:3). He wept at the tomb of Lazarus, even though He knew He would raise him from the dead. He didn’t rush past the pain—He stepped into it.

Pain is a natural part of our human experience, and when we allow ourselves to acknowledge it, we invite God into the depths of our suffering. It is in our brokenness that He draws near.

The Body’s Response to Pain: Why We Must Listen

Grief isn’t just an emotional or spiritual experience—it is deeply physical. When we experience loss, our bodies respond in profound ways. We may feel exhausted, unable to focus, weighed down by an invisible burden. Some experience nausea, chest tightness, or headaches. Others may feel restless, as if their body is trying to outrun the grief.

This is because grief isn’t just an emotion—it’s a full-body experience. Our nervous system is designed to react to loss as a form of survival. In the face of deep sorrow, our brains release stress hormones like cortisol and adrenaline, activating the body’s fight, flight, or freeze response. This is why grief can make us feel both numb and overwhelmed, sluggish yet unable to rest.

Understanding this helps us respond to grief with compassion and patience. We must learn to listen to our bodies, just as we listen to our souls. If our grief leaves us physically exhausted, it is okay to rest. If we need to cry, we must allow ourselves to do so. If our bodies crave movement, we can take walks, stretch, or breathe deeply. These are not signs of weakness but of wisdom—of responding to the pain in a way that allows healing to take place.

Embracing Authenticity in Our Walk of Faith

One of the greatest dangers in the mission field is the pressure to appear unshaken—to carry on without acknowledging our struggles. Many global workers feel isolated in their grief, afraid that admitting hardship might make them appear weak or faithless.

But authentic faith does not deny suffering—it meets God in the midst of it.

When we grieve, we are practicing faith. Faith that God is present in our pain.Faith that He holds us when we feel undone. Faith that He will bring healing, even if we do not yet see it.

Grief is not an enemy to be conquered—it is a journey to be walked. And it is a journey that should not be walked alone. As the Body of Christ, we are called to mourn with those who mourn (Romans 12:15). This means creating space for one another to grieve without rushing toward resolution. It means showing up, sitting in silence, and simply being present.

In our mission community, this means acknowledging the toll of transition, loss, and isolation. It means dismantling the stigma around mental health and embracing the reality that global workers need care too.

Helping Our Children Through Grief

For children, grief can feel even more confusing. They may struggle to grasp the finality of loss, or they may feel a deep sadness without understanding why.

When a loved one passes unexpectedly, children often express regret over not saying goodbye, not knowing how to process emotions that feel too big for their little hearts.

As adults, we sometimes try to protect children from pain, telling them “everything will be okay” or encouraging them to move on quickly. But children need space to grieve too. They need to be reassured that their sadness is valid and that their feelings matter.

Here are some ways to support children in grief:

• Give them language for their emotions. Instead of saying, “Don’t be sad,” help them name what they’re feeling: “You’re feeling really sad because you didn’t get to say goodbye, and that makes your heart hurt.”

• Create space for remembrance. Let them share memories, write letters, or draw pictures to express their emotions.

• Answer their questions honestly. Be age-appropriate, but truthful. If they ask why someone died, it’s okay to say, “We don’t always understand, but we trust that God is with us in our sadness.”

• Model healthy grief. Let them see you cry. Show them that it’s okay to feel emotions deeply.

Most importantly, remind them that Jesus is with them. That their grief is seen. That God is not afraid of their sorrow, and neither should they be.

Why Mental Health Awareness Matters in the Mission Field

In light of this loss, we must ask ourselves: How can we do better?

Grief is not something to be rushed through. Mental health is not a topic to be avoided. We must cultivate spaces where global workers feel safe to acknowledge their struggles without fear of judgment or rejection.

• We must normalize conversations around mental health in missions.

• We must remove the stigma around seeking counseling and emotional support.

• We must create communities where grief is shared, not silenced.

  
  

Because pain is real. Grief is real. The struggles global workers face are real. And if we do not acknowledge them, if we do not care for those who carry them, we are failing to love our brothers and sisters well.

As we continue to mourn, let us also continue to listen—to our bodies, to our souls, to one another. Let us be a people who embrace pain as part of our faith journey, trusting that God meets us in the depths and leads us into healing.