I Will Fear No Evil: A Missionary's Faith Journey Through Fear, Anxiety, Depression, and Trauma

By Karen Bettison

If you were brought up hearing that God makes everything work out for the good of his people, yet you struggle with anxiety, depression, or PTSD because of your experiences in life, you are not alone. Perhaps you question God's goodness, or your own worth. I WILL FEAR NO EVIL op

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bloomin' Pen Publishing
• Release date: Jul 27, 2023
• ISBN: 9798988852025

Karen Bettison

KAREN BETTISON holds a BS in Bible and Nursing, an MS in Nursing Education, and has studied linguistics at the University of Texas and Lincoln Christian Seminary. She served as a Bible Translator, Literacy Specialist, and Medical Missionary with Pioneer Bible Translators for 25 years, and currently works as a nurse at a major hospital in the US. She has been an educator, author, speaker, and Bible study leader in both the US and West Africa. With her husband, Jim, she has raised four children and resides in rural Missouri. She is dedicated to speaking truth, grace, and healing into the lives of people the Lord brings to cross her path.

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Contents

FOREWORD

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

INTRODUCTION

1.SURRENDER

2.BEGINNINGS OF FEAR

3.UNDAUNTED

4.WEST AFRICA

5.SEEDS OF FEAR

6.OUR HELP IN AGES PAST

7.SHATTERED PEACE

8.A NEW BEGINNING

9.A ROCKY START

10.A FRESH START

11.BEGINNING ONCE AGAIN

12.I WON’T BE SHAKEN

13.SEASONS OF OPPOSITION

14.CARRIED

15.RESTLESS

16.THE ACCIDENT

17.THE AFTERMATH

18.STRANGE YET FAMILIAR

19.RUMORS OF WAR

20.A SOBERING TRUTH

21.TURNING POINT

22.A SURPRISE DEPARTURE

23.OUT OF AFRICA

24.NOTHING WASTED

25.REST

EPILOGUE

ADDITIONAL RESOURCES

FOREWORD

Ihave known Karen for three decades—as both a friend and coworker. On my first nerve-wracking day in Africa, April 1, 1994, she saved my bacon. Rebecca and I walked slowly through the chaotic airport, eyes darting around, taking in all the confusion as sweat rolled down the backs of my legs from the incredible humidity. I felt overwhelmed by the newness of every sight, sound, and smell. We must have looked completely lost and extremely vulnerable. I had never seen any place like this before.

The airport applied very little investment toward security back then. It seemed to me that the police allowed random people to just waltz in off the street all the way back to where we were collecting our luggage. The whole scene felt more like an open market than a secure airport. So much has changed since then! As I picked up my luggage and rolled it toward the small army of blue-uniformed customs agents milling around by the door, I saw that they were surrounded by a thick throng of travelers somehow passing through. I quickly realized I could be in trouble as they began brusquely pointing and ordering me to plop down my trunks on their counters and open everything up for inspection.

As I nervously mustered my courage to explain myself, suddenly Karen swept onto the scene like an irresistible force of nature. Instantly, she was pushing upstream through the current of people exiting the airport with her arms waving in the air as she yelled Mission Protestante! Swiftly racing about and exclaiming unknown pronouncements in one of the local languages, Karen tipped the metaphorical balance in our favor with the sheer force of her energy.

Unexpectedly every blue uniformed arm began waving us through without inspection. The crowds parted like the Red Sea. Stunned, Rebecca and I staggered after Karen, pushing carts full of luggage without even saying a word of greeting to her. We ambled out into the intense radiation of the African sun under Karen’s formidable guidance and protection as she forcefully defended us from all the suspicious characters trying to snatch our luggage as a ruse to make us pay them for carrying it. Whoosh, before I knew it, she was whisking us away in a vehicle, and suddenly sanity descended upon us. Karen toured us around, showing us how to get around in the village and city. She took us places no one should have gone. Her courage was limitless. She looked, in my eyes, like an unshakable warrior.

But now, reading this book, I realize that so much more was going on beneath the surface in Karen’s mind. Even while she took on incredible challenges with great bravery, behind the closed doors of her heart, she was dealing with the trauma of it all. This book reveals the deeper thoughts of a great servant of God. She looked on the surface like the kind of person you only read about in missionary biographies. But now, she has taken the trouble to help us understand that God uses regular people to accomplish such feats. She wasn’t a person of great courage. She was a person who let God give her great courage when she needed it. In this book, she reveals the struggles and anxieties she encountered and how God helped her overcome.

I’m grateful to God that she didn’t let fear win out and that she let God take her on this amazing journey. I’m grateful to Karen for helping me and my wife adjust to West Africa. She walked us through that chaos and showed us the ropes. We lived in her house for a while in the village. She was unbelievably fearless in those early years, perhaps to an unhealthy degree. Then later, as the crises and struggles of life kept piling on top of one another, I remember how she came to be more sensitive to danger. I remember the trauma of Jim and Karen’s departure, and how we all returned to the States with varying degrees of wounds afflicting us from the traumatic experiences we all had in West Africa. It’s cathartic to read her story in detail now.

Most people could never write a book like this one because they haven’t taken the pains to journal consistently enough over the years to keep a written record to guide their recollections. Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to look back on life and see from hindsight the meaning and impact of what happened? In Karen’s case, she has a unique story of work in West Africa on a Bible translation project. Those of us who read her story won’t be able to keep from marveling at how well-preserved the important details are and how impactful the spiritual experiences are.

Aspects of the story will resonate with anyone who reads it. We have all had experiences like these. But those of us who have traveled overseas and lived as servants of God in difficult places will especially see in this story elements of our own. 

Karen has written not only what happened but how it impacted her as a person. This book opens an intimate window into her story and how God used her experiences, joyful as well as painful, to shape her as a person.

If you read with insight, you just might encounter in Karen’s story some of the same influences that shaped your story too. When she writes about how anxieties crept into her life, it may well surface memories in your own life too. When she recounts her story with vulnerability and authenticity, you just might find yourself reflecting suddenly on your own similar experiences, taking you on a similar introspective journey along with her.

May the Lord use this writing to minister to many.

Greg Pruett; President

Pioneer Bible Translators

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

The inspiration to write this book came from many friends who were willing to listen to parts of my story and encouraged me to put it into writing. I am grateful to all who walked with me through this, had faith in me, and gave me the courage to do this project.

I am extremely grateful to all those who helped proofread and edit parts or all of this book: my husband, Jim; my mom, Cathi; my daughter, Katie; my friend and colleague, Tina Ganong; and many others mentioned by name in this book.

I am also grateful to the many anonymous missionaries who opened up and allowed themselves to be vulnerable, sharing the hardships of their own journey to help shed light on the widespread struggles missionaries face on the field.

I am indebted to my counselors, Ken Wadum and Alan Lee, who helped me process my trauma.

I am thankful to my colleagues who served God faithfully alongside me during my years in Africa and offered their friendship and encouragement along the way.

I am thankful to my African sister, Annette Zacho, who designed the cover and understands all too well the beauty and turmoil of Africa, as she put it.

I thank my parents, who raised me to know the Lord and gave me a foundation of faith, especially my mother, who has always been there to listen. She kept all my correspondence over the years, making recounting many details of my story possible.

I can’t say enough how thankful I am for my children, who have graciously put up with me and loved me during the hardest times. I am so grateful for my husband, Jim, who has stood by me through thick and thin and has been a rock of support for the past 28 years and counting.

Most of all, I’m thankful to Yahweh, Creator of heaven and earth. He loved you and me so much that he came in the form of a man, Jesus, to die for us, giving us real hope in this fallen world. He walks with me and provides for me through the darkest of times. Without him, I would have lost hope long ago.

INTRODUCTION

Memories are powerful things. It’s easy to remember good times and forget bad times. Some memories we choose to forget; we leave them hidden deep in the recesses of our subconscious mind. Others are seared into our minds. We cannot ignore them; they haunt us when we least expect it. As we age, we either find it harder to remember details about experiences, or we subconsciously choose to block them out, and their value is lost to us.

From an early age, I kept a diary. My diaries began simply, recording a child’s thoughts of wonder at this world, crushes, relationships, and other significant events at the time. They gradually became conversations with God, reflections on spiritual truths I learned, and an account of my journey. When I left home for college and eventually overseas, my family saved letters that gave an account of events as they unfolded. Years later, carefully preserved and stored in boxes, these diaries, journals, and letters became powerful aids to my fading memory of the journey’s events, details, and emotions. They also testified to God’s faithful care through every step.

I have since learned the power of self-reflection as a means of personal growth. Counselors rely on self-reflection exercises to bring healing to their clients, and higher education employs self-reflection as an academic tool to promote advanced learning. Through self-reflection, one often gains a deeper understanding of oneself, finds meaning and purpose, recognizes strengths and weaknesses, and identifies emerging themes. Journaling becomes a form of therapy. Re-reading the memories of long ago and seeing the lessons I learned but quickly forgot has been the most beneficial.

Several themes became apparent as I reflected on the events of my life through these journal readings. One was feelings of rejection and inadequacy. Looking back, I realize how many of my decisions, life choices, and my developing self-identity were shaped by events in which I perceived rejection.

Fear and its counterpart anxiety also emerged as central themes. I have always struggled with these emotions. Sometimes, I’d gained victory over them, only to succumb again to their grip. And I am not alone. According to Psychology Today, anxiety has become a worldwide epidemic, with the United States in the lead. ¹ People of this generation are more likely to report poor mental health than those of the preceding generation. ²

How is this possible in a society with such technological advances? We live in the lap of luxury, not in poverty like the world’s majority population. The United States is not at war like many nations. Christians are not persecuted in the US in the same manner they are in other countries. Yet the struggle to find peace and contentment is somehow out of reach. Societal changes, social media, and conflicting views of science and truth add to the confusion, causing young people to take desperate measures to find meaning, identity, and purpose.

The fact that fear and anxiety are endemic to human experience shouldn’t surprise us. In her study The Epic of Eden, Dr. Sandra Richter suggests that we see the birth of anxiety at the heart of the Curse, as recounted in Genesis 3:17-19, where God tells Adam that through painful toil he will eat from the ground, and by the sweat of his brow he will eat his food. Anxiety has plagued humanity ever since. ³ Danger in this life is real. Our safety, financial stability, and sometimes even our lives are threatened. We are all caught up in a race to survive in a world where death is the final chapter. Even our bodies and minds are innately wired for a fight or flight response, no matter how well we learn to master it.

Navigating fear, understanding the whys of the universe, and finding purpose and meaning in this life are the private mission of every member of humanity. How does one break free from the talons of fear? Is there any hope? God has shown us a way: the redemptive plan he set in motion in Eden would find its fulfillment in Christ on the cross. God gives eternal hope to those who trust and follow him. Finding freedom from fear and depression has been my quest as I have endeavored to help myself and others walk through that valley.

In my writing, I do not attempt to recount every life event from my memories or journaling, just the ones that significantly impacted my journey, either positively or negatively. Every choice we make and every experience we have can be significant. The mystery of God’s sovereignty and our freedom of choice play out as we journey through life. I believe that God shapes us through our circumstances, events, and the people around us. He works with our interests, abilities, and the unique person he has made us to be, gently wooing us to become part of his bigger story. Yet God allows us to follow our own path, sometimes righting our course at various steps along the way, and sometimes allowing us to reject him completely. God gives us the freedom to explore various scenarios, and we have the choice to learn from each experience. He desires to teach us the great mysteries of who he is and his larger view of things. He knows that we, as part of this fallen, sin-cursed earth, are broken and desperately in need of him. We need God to draw us back and restore our intimate relationship with him.

Sometimes, the circumstances God allows us to endure seem harsh and unloving from our self-centered perspective and our wounded state. Yet he remains sovereign and in control. He knows how the story ends and how he desires it to play out. We can’t always understand his higher ways in this life, but someday, standing in eternity, everything will become clear. God doesn’t expect us to always figure everything out. I certainly do not understand many things from my own life. But our Sovereign does ask us to trust him and his perfect plan. Accepting his plan is at the heart of faith.

So, why did I write this book? As I have shared bits and pieces of my journey with others over the years, many have asked me repeatedly to put my story into writing. In the search to find meaning in my pain, writing this has helped me to sift through the pieces, see the bigger picture, and has brought clarity and meaning to my journey – even the hidden, most painful parts. Writing them forced me to relive some very difficult moments, often triggering me with some of the same fight or flight responses as if I were living them all over again. I have mixed emotions about sharing this part of my story, especially fear. I worry about exposing my emotions, weaknesses, and vulnerable moments for everyone to see and scrutinize. I can only hope that God would use it for his greater glory.

My story is just one story among many. I hope it will shed light on some of the common stressful and traumatic experiences of international workers and the negative consequences these can have on mental health. I pray that in reading my story, they will know that they are not alone. As my dear friend Tina once pointed out, we are normal humans and are not immune to the negative consequences of our environments just because we serve God. Nor will healing come instantly for everyone. Some scars we will carry for a lifetime, apart from divine intervention. We may never completely heal this side of heaven. This holds true for anyone who lives on this planet. Yet there is hope.

Trying to find purpose and meaning in all the difficulties of life often seems out of reach. But even in spite of my inability to always see the why of what happened to me, I am sure of one thing: God walked through it with me, cultivated my faith, and ultimately drew me to lean on him more, which is, in my view, the only reason I’m still here. I pray that by walking through my journey, you will discover how God has been ever-present in your journey as well – how he is calling you back to him through your unique circumstances and desires an intimate relationship with you. I pray that the lessons I’ve learned as I have struggled to overcome my fears and anxiety will help others imprisoned in the grip of the unavoidable symptoms of the Curse to find hope and freedom.

(Names of some places and individuals in this story have been excluded or have been changed for security reasons.)

1. Escalante, A. (2019). U.S. leads in the worldwide anxiety epidemic. Psychology Today, April 26, 2019. https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/shouldstorm/201904/us-leads-in-the-worldwide-anxiety-epidemic

2. Bethune, S. (2019). Gen Z more likely to report mental health concerns. American Psychological Association, 50(1), p. 20. https://www.apa.org/monitor/2019/01/gen-z

3. Richter, S (2008). The epic of eden. IVP Academic

Chapter one

SURRENDER

My first year of college was life-changing in so many ways. I spent hours in prayer and spiritual development. I prayed every day for God’s guidance and direction for a field where I could serve.

In my third semester, however, I had a major emotional setback. I experienced betrayal from a friend that set my emotions reeling, resulting in my first real bout of depression. The feelings of rejection and betrayal lingered and played a role in my emotional state. By the end of the spring semester of 1984, my newfound ambitions for serving as an overseas missionary came to a standstill. I became increasingly discouraged and depressed about my future. Disillusionment set in, and I considered changing schools and majors. I prayed desperately for God to show me his will for my life and the path I should take.

Then, unexpectedly, I was invited by my uncle, Rondal, to travel with him and his daughter, Andria, to Papua New Guinea. Papua New Guinea, a large island nation off the northern coast of Australia, is home to over 800 indigenous peoples, each with their own language. Rondal was serving with a new organization, Pioneer Bible Translators, which had started several Bible translation projects there. A spark of hope returned. It didn’t take me long to realize I had to try and make this happen. My energy suddenly took a new direction. I would have to get a passport and visa, raise the money, and buy plane tickets all in the next six weeks. For the first time, I had a solid plan, even if it was short-term, and it gave me a renewed passion and momentum. Again, another crossroad moment in time unfolded, and the direction of my future changed.

In the following weeks, I prayed, gathered resources, and saved money. I sold many of my personal belongings and asked friends at church for financial help. However, as I made plans to go to Papua New Guinea, my mind kept drifting to thoughts of the hot climate and the many diseases there. I had heard stories of people with leprosy and missionaries dying from malaria and other tropical diseases. What if I got some tropical disease and died in the rainforest before I could reach help?

What’s worse, not long ago, the people of this land were headhunters. I imagined meeting an entourage of grass-skirt-clad warriors with bone-pierced noses and spears in hand. Would they be the ones to meet me at the airport? Thoughts about what happened to the missionaries in Ecuador came to mind. The reality of it all began to sink in, and the fears slowly consumed my thoughts. My imagination worked overtime, conjuring up more things to worry about. No sooner than the fear of disease or headhunters finally subsided, the idea of dying in a plane crash would come to mind.

Eventually, I decided that it all boiled down to surrender. I would have to let go of my fear and give in to God’s peace. I had to accept that the worst-case scenario could happen, and if it did, I would have to trust that God held me. Besides, I reminded myself of what I had heard that missionary say in chapel: that there was no safer place than in the center of God’s will. I read the words of King David in Psalm 23, which said,

Even though I walk

through the darkest valley,

I will fear no evil,

for you are with me;

Your rod and your staff,

they comfort me. ¹

I reasoned that if God wanted me to go, then I would have to believe he would protect me as a shepherd protected his sheep with his rod and staff from harm along the way, and therefore I had nothing to fear. Six weeks later, passport, visa, and tickets in hand, I was on my way.

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As we entered the airport of Port Moresby, the capital of Papua New Guinea, we came through a thick mist with the moon shining down. Once we landed, I was quite relieved that we were greeted by uniformed airport personnel instead of headhunters. We arrived at our guest hostel late and got to bed around 1:30 a.m. I had a hard time sleeping. My head was spinning from the jetlag and the change in altitude, and my stomach was churning. I drifted in and out of sleep, dragged in by fatigue and awakened periodically by various night sounds outside my window: crunching, squealing, barking, scratching, gnawing, and buzzing noises, all choreographed on top of a constant hum of crickets.

When we woke at 5:30, we had less than an hour to be at the airport for our connecting flight to Madang in the northern part of the country. After navigating the usual traffic jam outside the small terminal and the chaos inside the airport, we boarded our plane just in time. As we flew over the mountain range that bisects the country, I took in the breathtaking view until we entered a cloud front that dumped heavy torrents of rain on the town of Lae below, where we landed briefly.

As we arrived in Madang, dozens of children peered through the airport’s screened windows, waiting to see who would get off the plane. Finally, our PBT missionary colleagues, Eunice and Mike, met us. They blessed us with warm hospitality and fellowship for several days as they introduced us to their work and helped us begin learning some of the local trade language, Tok Pisin, and navigating the local customs.

After several days, we departed from Madang on a twin-engine plane to the village of Garati in the Madang Province, where a PBT couple, David and Sharran, and their two children, lived and worked among the Kire people. We bonded quickly with their family as they welcomed us warmly and shared their insights into the language and culture of the Kire people.