Is It Selfish to Take Care of Yourself? Lessons from Life After the Mission Field

I grew up watching my parents give everything for what God has called them to do. So putting myself first felt...wrong. It felt like betrayal. When you watch your parents in a role that instead of being a 9-5 feels like a 24/7, it is easy to get caught up in feeling like you have to sacrifice everything, including caring for yourself. Work does not stay at work, work shows at your door all hours of the day of night. How are you supposed to respond when someone you are doing life with and discipling shows up at your door late one night because their child is sick and they need your help getting to the hospital and getting medicine? Do you say no, "sorry it's my bedtime?" Do you say yes and forego the sleep you have been needing all day? It feels impossible to respond sometimes.

Growing Up In a Life of Sacrifice

My parents gave all their time, energy, resources - they poured themselves out for the mission field. They were faithful, committed and willing to sacrifice so much so others could hear the gospel. My family as well as so many other missionary families sacrificed being near extended family and being present for all the birthdays, graduations and most special occasions. They have sacrificed a "normal" 9-5 schedule, for a completely different lifestyle.

And honestly, I admired that. I still do.

But somewhere along the way, I absorbed an unspoken rule and you might have too: self-care = selfishness.

If someone else was hurting, my pain didn't count. If I was tired, I pushed through. If I was struggling, "someone else has it worse, so you're fine." If I put myself first, it felt selfish - even sinful. It felt like I was putting myself before God's plan.

Don't get me wrong, the call to serve is beautiful. It is a gift. But it does not come without sacrifice.

The Impact on Me

Fast forward to adulthood, I'm not on the mission field anymore but I don't know how to stop. I'm living a "normal" life in my passport country. But those old patterns didn't disappear when I left. They followed me. And they whispered: Keep giving. Keep doing. Keep proving you're not selfish or self-centered.

• I felt guilty for resting

• I said yes to everything, even when I was drowning

• I dismissed my feelings because "someone else had it harder"

It felt holy to keep serving, keep giving, keep doing - even when my body and soul were breaking. But deep down, I was running on empty.

So here I am - learning, unlearning, and asking a question I never thought I'd have to wrestle with: How do you learn to take care of yourself when sacrifice was the norm?

The Truth I Needed to Hear

One day in college, I stumbled on a verse I'd read a thousand times as a kid: "Love your neighbor as yourself."

Now I had always focused on the "love your neighbor" part - that was what I had been programmed to pay attention to in every circumstance. But the second half matters too. As yourself. If you are not loving and taking care of yourself, how are you supposed to fully love others.

That means taking care of your own soul isn't a sin - it's a command from God. It is not only implied, but necessary. Even Jesus rested. The perfect, Son of God, RESTED. He withdrew to lonely places to pray. He took naps on boats. He left crowds waiting so He could be with the Father. When was the last time you said no to a hang out, so you could go spend time with God? When was the last time, you took a nap instead of packing your schedule so full that you are constantly exhausted?

If Jesus - who literally carried the weight of the world - needed rest, why did I think I didn't? Why do you think you don't?

The truth is: Serving others from an empty cup isn't holy. It's harmful.

I am speaking to myself as much as I am speaking to you. This is just as hard for me as it may be for you. This isn't easy to do, but it is simple.

What I'm Learning Now

I'm still learning, but here are a few truths I try to hold onto:

• Boundaries aren't unspiritual - they're wise. Saying no doesn't make you selfish, it allows your work/ministry to be sustainable. In the Garden of Eden in Genesis, God put boundaries on Adam and Eve, before the fall. Boundaries aren't a consequence of the fall - they're a God-designed part of healthy, thriving relationships and life.

• Soul care isn't indulgence - it's stewardship. Taking time to nurture you heart, mind and spirit isn't selfish; it's a way of honoring the life God has entrusted you with. When we prioritize prayer, rest, emotional health, and boundaries, we're not indulging - we're aligning with God's design for wholeness.

• God cares about you - not just what you do for Him. We often fall into the trap of thinking His love is tied to our usefulness, like He values us more when we're serving, leading or producing results. But God's heart for you isn't based on performance; it's rooted in relationship. Before you every did anything for Him, He called you His child.

And here's the hardest part: letting go of guilt. Because every time I rest, my old MK brain says: You're being lazy. You're letting someone down. But the reality is, when I take care of myself, I can love others better. And that's the heart of it all.

If You're an MK (or Really Anyone) Reading This:

Please hear me:

It's okay to rest.

It's okay to say no.

It's okay to take care of yourself.

You're not betraying your upbringing or abandoning the mission by doing that. You're simply learning what your parents may not have had the chance to:

Healthy ministry starts with a healthy soul.

So I'm learning to unlearn constant sacrifice - and replace it with rhythms of grace. I hope you will too.