If I Could LIve My Career Over Again: Reflections of a Veteran Missionary

by David Howard

EMQ asked David Howard, veteran missionary and, for several years, director of Urbana, to share in a more personal way lessons he learned over his five decades of missionary service.

EMQ asked David Howard, veteran missionary and, for several years, director of Urbana, to share in a more personal way lessons he learned over his five decades of missionary service.

It was February, 1953, when my wife and I first arrived on the mission field. Therefore, today I can look back over fifty years of ministry. Twenty of those years were spent in Costa Rica, Colombia and Singapore. The other thirty involved ministries directly related to world missions. As I reflect on those years I have much for which to be thankful, as I have seen the hand of God work in marvelous ways in the lives of thousands of people.

At the same time I can see many areas where I wish I had done a better job. As an old commercial used to say “You only get to go around once in life.” I cannot relive those times when I wish I could have improved my actions, but I am glad to share some thoughts which perhaps could be a challenge to younger missionaries who still have the opportunity to learn from my mistakes.

RELATIONSHIPS WITH MY FAMILY
By far my deepest regrets are in my relationship to my family. If I could live my career over, I would always put my family first, something I too often failed to do. I was part of the post World War II generation of missionaries. We were conditioned by the sacrifices that our military personnel suffered for the sake of defending the world for democracy. The ringing cry which we young missionary candidates heard went something like this: “Our men and women left home and family and went overseas for two, three or four years to defend our nation. They gave up all, even their lives, for the cause. Can we do less in the army of the Lord?” We responded enthusiastically to such a call. Sacrifice was the big word for us.

My best friend in college, who later became best man in my wedding and also my brother-in-law, Jim Elliot, strongly influenced many of us with the call for sacrifice. His journals are replete with dramatic calls for commitment even unto death. I once counted at least thirty references to a short life and death in his journals. This sort of attitude made a deep impression on me.

Therefore, when it came time on the mission field to throw myself wholeheartedly into the ministry, all too often my family took second place.

I was not as sensitive to my wife as I should have been. She carried on valiantly at home raising our four children and never complaining, while I spent too much time away. When I was home, I did try to give special time to the children, such as going to the beach every Saturday. I also took my sons with me on trips into the jungles when they were old enough.

But there were times even at home when my work crowded out the children. My most painful memory in this area was one day when I was preparing a message in my study. My seven-year-old son came in interrupting my work. I reproved him, saying that he should not bother Daddy when Daddy was studying. With a crestfallen look he turned and ran out, but not before dropping a little piece of crumpled paper on my desk. I picked it up and read these words, “I love you Daddy!” I still choke up as I recall that incident.

Directly related to the above point is that, if I could live my career over again, I would refuse to accept some assignments that encroached far too deeply on my family life. On at least two occasions I agreed to go to the US on mission business for two full months. Trips of one month or six weeks away from home were common. I take much of the responsibility for agreeing to such trips. I was one of four general directors, and we made decisions together. So I am as guilty as my colleagues. But I wish that I had recognized the impact on my family that such absences from home caused.

RELATIONSHIPS TO MISSIONARY COLLEAGUES
I would try to be more vulnerable to my colleagues in letting them know that I was also “a man of like passions.” I recall with pain the day that a single missionary lady came into my office to pour out her troubles. She sat there weeping as she opened her heart to me. She finally said, “Dave, Don’t you ever get discouraged?” Since I was the field director, I did not want her to see any weakness in me. So I said, “Yes, but if I do, I surely won’t ever tell you about it !” I could see her visibly wilt, as she thought of her own discouragement. Had I opened my heart and put myself on the same level with her, it would have greatly increased my ability to help her.

Another thing I would do would be to record stories of older veteran missionaries. My colleague, Ernie Fowler, was twenty years my senior both in age and in experience on the field. He and I would travel together in dugout canoes, on rafts, on horseback or on foot. He was a magnificent story teller, and I used to revel in getting him started on stories of his experiences as we traveled for long hours together. They were classic, and his ability to tell them was superb. But I never recorded any of them. Ernie has been in heaven now since 1966, and I lost a wonderful opportunity.

RELATIONSHIPS TO NATIONAL WORKERS
I think I genuinely tried to relate well to my colleagues among the national workers, and perhaps I had some modest success in this. I learned much from them. I once wrote a book on the work of the Holy Spirit, which I dedicated to several of them, because of the deep influence they had on my life in understanding the work of the Spirit.

Nevertheless, there were many times when I could have done a better job. I should have learned to say “No” more often to requests from them that took time away from my family. One Sunday after the morning service, the national pastor asked me, quite obviously “off the cuff,” if I would preach that evening. He had no special reason for this, but I felt that, since he asked, I should accept. Sunday afternoon was usually a time when I gave special attention to our children taking walks or doing some other activity where they were the center of my attention. But that day I had to spend the afternoon preparing a message for that night. It was not any special event for the church, but I neglected my family in to do it. I should simply have told that pastor that I planned to spend the afternoon with my family.

I would also be more cautious in recommending someone to the gospel ministry. I used to feel that if a young man wanted to serve the Lord, we should accept him wholeheartedly into the ministry. Sometimes this had negative effects, because we did not give adequate attention to his gifts or sense of calling.

When I was director of our seminary in Costa Rica my signature went on the diploma awarded to the graduates. The diploma stated that we recommend this person to the gospel ministry. One year there was a student who had a volatile temper, an arrogant attitude and in general caused many problems in the seminary. Nevertheless, I signed his diploma.

Several years later he was serving as pastor of a local church near where we were located. He began to cause such major problems in the church that it was on the verge of a disastrous split. I was asked, along with leaders of the national church association, to go and try to deal with him. As we sat in his home attempting to counsel him, he was arrogant and unresponsive. I looked over his shoulder to the wall behind him where his diploma from our seminary was placed. I remembered with regret that my signature was on that diploma recommending him for the ministry. It would have been far better for all concerned if we had indicated in love and compassion that we did not feel he should be commended for the ministry.

RELATIONSHIPS TO THE PEOPLE IN GENERAL
Again I think I sincerely tried to learn how to relate to my national brothers and sisters, and I may have had some measure of modest success in this area. But I am aware that there were times when my ignorance of customs and needs of the people were woefully lacking.
Almost all missionaries have to learn how to handle the problem of beggars. They are ubiquitous in many parts of the world. Should we give to all who ask, with the subsequent problems that follow? Should we just decide to refuse all requests, when many of them may well be legitimate? I don’t think I ever fully resolved this issue in my own mind and practice.

Related to that is the matter of bargaining in the marketplace. In Latin America bargaining is a part of life. The people love to bargain and often will actually be disappointed if we don’t bargain over some prices. They expect it, and it is part of their fun. But I know there were times when I bargained too hard, forcing the price down below what it should have been. I can still see the sad looks on the faces of a few where, in hindsight, I realized I had gone too far.

The need to learn the local customs is, of course, taken for granted. But there will always be times when we fail to understand some nuances of language or actions. One of my painful recollections in this area took place at a seminary picnic. The whole student body was there at a lovely place on a mountainside. As the picnic ended we were heading back up the hill to a road where the bus was awaiting us. One student was carrying a large box containing some of the equipment used at the picnic. He finally got tired and in a jovial and (I thought) humorous way, he set the box down and said, “Well, someone else can carry this now.”

I took up on this in what I thought was a humorous vein also, just as we might have done in an American cultural setting. I called out to all within earshot, “It looks as though we need a man to carry this box. Any real men around here?” My friend took off his hat, slammed it into the ground, spun around on me and shouted, “I was a man before I was converted, and I’m still a man!” He turned and stalked off in great anger.

I realized too late that I had offended his machismo (manliness). That is a mortal sin in Latin America. One never casts any aspersions on the machismo of a man. I hope I learned the lesson, but it was too late to erase that incident with him. I don’t think I ever regained the confidence of that student.

CONCLUSION
Some years ago I thought about writing a full book with a possible title such as “If Only…Mistakes I Wish I Hadn’t Made.” I actually outlined this in general and wrote a few chapters. However, the pain of digging up past mistakes, some of which were serious, others less serious, was agonizing. My wife urged me never to write the book. She didn’t want me to subject myself to such painful introspections nor to tell stories that perhaps should not be told. So quite probably I will never write that book.

But if the above illustrations (and there could be dozens more!) could serve to encourage and help some younger missionaries to avoid such mistakes, I am glad to share them. Today my attitude and task must be “Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 3:13-14).

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David M. Howard, retired, former director of LAM and several Urbanas.

EMQ, Vol. 39, No. 4, pp. 474-478. Copyright © 2003 Evangelism and Missions Information Service (EMIS). All rights reserved. Not to be reproduced or copied in any form without written permission from EMIS.

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