Should I Stay or Should I Go Now?

By Ash Barker

How do we know if it”s time to move on or to dig deep and persevere? As an urban mission worker for nearly 20 years, I know how much is at stake. It pains me to see so many Christian leaders either hang on to an assignment for far too long, wringing the life out of a community, or withdraw prematurely, missing out on what was possible in that community.

How can we know the right time to transition out of our current roles? I have some experience with this, and have helped many others to do this, so here is what I have found helpful.

 

1. Do you have a “niggle”?

My family”s move to a slum in the developing world started with what I could only describe as a “niggle in my spirit.” It was like a tug on the end of a fishing line that shouldn”t be ignored.

But first we needed to explore an unusual discontent in what were then our roles with Urban Neighbours Of Hope (UNOH), serving in a multicultural neighborhood of Melbourne, Australia. As we talked with our team and prayed, we realized we needed to be released to explore a longing we had for developing world urban ministry. This was something my wife, Anji, and I had kept in our hearts since meeting as teenagers.

Identifying this niggle was not a decision to leave Melbourne, but a request for the freedom to explore possibilities and return with recommendations. Actually, the first time this prompting happened was in 1997. UNOH had just come through its first five years and had stabilized. However, when we were released to consider our next steps, we returned from an exploratory trip to Vietnam and recommitted to Melbourne for another five years.

In discussing this with our community, we all realized we needed to stay and adjust our roles””though my wife and I were still aware of a sense of calling to the developing world that was in our hearts. This first niggle was about the need to change some focus in our roles for the next season of life.

Here is a rule of thumb: if you are responsible for work that is more than 50 percent outside of your gifting and passion, then perhaps change is needed. Everyone needs to do difficult work in a fallen world, but there is a limit. Don”t long endure the stress of working outside your area of giftedness and passion without asking whether something should change.

It can be easy to try to ignore or suppress these niggles or, conversely, to act upon them too hastily. A prompting is not a foolproof “word from the Lord,” but something to explore prayerfully with a few confidants who would be both affected by the decision and who are also concerned for your long-term well-being.

This niggle can happen when your role needs to change, or when we least expect it. It was actually the latter that helped us move to Bangkok, as you will see.

 

2. Do you have a confirmation?

For a successful transition, those who invest the most in your ministries, and in you personally, need to be respected and involved in the decision. In 1999, after our roles were adjusted, we saw our ministries in Melbourne begin to blossom. As part of our recommitment to Melbourne, we planned to work at an orphanage in Vietnam during a three-month sabbatical. But at the last minute our visa request was rejected.

One of my friends, who was working at the Australian Embassy in Bangkok, said, “There are great slums here in Bangkok; you”ll love them!” He was right, and the three months we spent in Klong Toey slum, Bangkok, were a real joy.

Because we loved our role in Melbourne, we naturally thought someone else from UNOH could go to Bangkok. “God loves you, and Ash has a wonderful plan for your life” is a common joke at UNOH. It was not until a stopover trip to Klong Toey, Bangkok, a year later that I felt an overwhelming sense of being “home.” Of course, it is one thing to have ideas 1,000 miles from home, but during the flight back to Melbourne, my stomach was knotted as I thought about the right time to talk with Anji.

While still in the van that brought me home from the airport, I blurted out, “Anji, I had this amazing experience in Bangkok. I think we should to go and start a UNOH team there within two years.” Then I held my breath.

“You”re joking!” Anji said, tears welling up in her eyes. “I have been trying to give up that dream, but it wouldn”t go away!”

After sharing and discussing the Bangkok idea with the team and key stakeholders in our ministry (local people, churches of Christ leaders, the UNOH board), and working through a three-month discernment process, we made a decision.

We all believed God was calling us to go, if a few things would occur. A key one was to connect with the church of Christ in Thailand (CCT), which had a community centre in Klong Toey. John Gilmore, UNOH”s chair, knew the then-general secretary of CCT, Dr. Sint. With his help, the CCT, UNOH”s governing body, and the churches of Christ in Victoria and Tasmania entered into a covenant together for us to live and serve with them in Klong Toey. Before we knew it, churches and individuals from around Australia raised support and we were headed for Bangkok. It took 18 months from that initial niggle of a feeling until we were released to pursue it in March 2002.

Anji and I, along with our then 5-year-old daughter, Amy, stepped out in faith knowing we needed others to confirm our call””but we didn”t know how much we needed them. It became apparent during our traumatic first six months living in Klong Toey.

It was difficult to adjust to living in a home the size of four double beds in a 2-square-kilometer urban slum of 80,000 mostly Buddhist people, but add to that four bouts with Dengue fever, dysentery, floods, and trouble with learning the language, and I must admit, our resolve was tested.

At one point, I thought I was going to die as I drifted in and out of consciousness in the hospital. I could only go back to that old hymn “I Surrender All” and rest in the sense that we all believed, as best as we knew, that our family was to follow this call “come what may.”

In the end we learned hemorrhagic Dengue fever caused that hospital visit, and not a virus in my heart as was thought. And after that trial, our lives did eventually adjust.

I don”t think we could have gotten through it if our move to Klong Toey had simply been our own whim. Our calling is not our own. We are part of the body of Christ, and it”s important that those who have a stake in our ministry feel like they can discern and confirm with us our next steps. 

3. Does your current community have good momentum?

I still remember our farewell diner in Melbourne in March 2002. We crowded into a Vietnamese restaurant around the corner from our Springvale Mission Centre; more than 100 people came to say good-bye.

One by one, someone from each community we served””Aboriginal, East Timorese, Rainbow, Pacific Islanders, Kelvin Grove””got up and presented us with farewells we shall never forget. There was much singing and dancing. This was the last of a marathon of farewells all around the country since we had first sensed God calling us to Bangkok. This farewell was the most emotional. The next day we flew to Bangkok and moved into the 70 Rye neighbourhood of the Klong Toey slum.

At his last supper, Jesus summoned words so profound and insightful that we still use them each week to remember his farewell. Anji and I were overwhelmed by a much smaller farewell, and the only things we could think to say sounded like cheap clichés. How do you respond when someone looks into your eyes and says, “You”ve helped me get a life; I”ll never forget what you”ve done for me”?

I can remember praying at the end of the night, “Lord, let our hearts continue to be one as we go to Bangkok.” In a real way, the efforts we make in Bangkok are possible only because of the friendship, support, and prayers of others. Paul wrote, “Because there is one loaf, we, who are many, are one body, for we all partake of the one loaf” (1 Corinthians 10:17). We feel gratitude at being part of this one bread, and that feeling goes beyond mere words.

It felt like we were at our own funeral as the neighbors and communities eulogized how God had impacted their lives through us. Had we left prematurely in 1997, we would have missed this special moment. Had we stayed longer, we could well have stifled their growth.

By far the best time to transition is when things are going well; the worst time to make a decision about endings is when things are down and dark. In the darkness, we just can”t be sure if our decision is a knee-jerk reaction.

I know momentum is not always possible, but it is certainly preferable. Today UNOH has mission workers in three of the neediest neighborhoods in Melbourne, and the work has far outgrown the role we played there.

 

4. Do you have a good ending?

Sometimes we experience endings faster than we expect. On August 18, 2009, I was sitting at my desk at the Klong Toey Community Centre when wild wind, thunderclaps, and sheets of rain suddenly descended upon us. Tree branches cracked and fell onto the road outside. Then the electricity went out.

When the rain eased a bit, I started for home to see if our house had flooded again. It hadn”t, but as I went down our small lane, I could see thick black smoke billowing up to the sky. Anji, who had taken shelter under a bridge with the kids, called me because she had heard about the fire. “Get the dog, rabbit, and hamsters, maybe your computer too. We don”t have much else, so get out of there.”

The fire was still about 100 meters away, but it was close to a liquid propane shop. I went to see if we could help, but with thousands of people, many carrying valued possessions, running in all directions, it was chaos. Soon the fire trucks arrived and quickly extinguished the fire. Though five homes were lost, amazingly no one was seriously injured and few belongings burnt.

Trees were down, power poles were snapped, and people were now milling outside. There was a tangible sense of relief the storm and fire had not done more damage.

Since the electricity was still off throughout our area, neighbors spontaneously gathered in our common courtyard. I bought some pizza, and as we ate, we told storm stories. It didn”t take long for discussions to turn back to normal life. By midnight the electricity was back on in 70 Rye, and life continued as if nothing happened.

Out of the blue the next day, we learned of the availability of a new home in a new, poorer neighborhood. We had been praying about a move. Our 70 Rye neighborhood now had a strong church with growing leaders based in the old mansion at the end of our street. Christian neighbors were now running micro-enterprises like a “helping hands” cooking school and Klong Toey Handicrafts. None of these things existed when we arrived here April 1, 2002. We realized our two kids, Aiden (age 6) and Amy (12), were starting to need more space, and as we had just committed to living in Bangkok for another seven years, we also realized we needed a new grassroots challenge.

As urban mission workers, we always aimed to be like scaffolding that could be removed from 70 Rye to allow an indigenous Christian movement to emerge. And now this storm and fire seemed to confirm that this hope was firmly established. There surely would be more challenges ahead for this neighborhood, but””as the storm and fire showed””they could not only survive, but adapt and respond together for a better future without us living there.

We moved only 500 meters away to the Loch 4 neighborhood, but the hope we found in 70 Rye both stayed there with our neighbors and also moved with us to the new area. We had an ending that enabled us to be released to start again. Promptings, confirmations, momentum, and good endings had happened again.

And so, after much discussion and building work, we moved into our “renovator”s delight” in Loch 4 of Klong Toey on October 20.

 

 

 

ASH BARKER has served the poor for nearly 20 years. He is the founding director of Urban Neighbours of Hope (UNOH), a missionary organization founded in Melbourne, Australia, in 1993 to work among the poor. Since 2002, Ash and his family have been involved with planting UNOH”s first overseas community in Klong Toey, the largest slum in Bangkok, Thailand.