Lands of Milk & Honey: Part 1

Anywhere but There

Frank and Eileen Goodman arrived at an orientation for new missionaries near the end of 2001 with a lot of enthusiasm and only one stipulation: “We’ll go anywhere except to a Muslim country.” Eileen had worked for Muslim men once and their view and treatment of women had grated on her. Frank shared her frustration, and neither of them wanted to repeat that experience. They were also living in the immediate aftermath of the 9/11 attacks on New York, and the Muslim world felt more threatening than ever before. The Goodmans were willing to go anywhere else.

Frank had started his career as an engineer. He worked on government contracts and was used to following instructions. He came to orientation with the attitude, Just tell us where to go. But to his surprise, “That’s not the way Pioneers rolls.” Instead of handing out assignments to fill vacancies, their interview team asked about their gifts, strengths and sense of leading from God. Frank and Eileen didn’t feel that the Lord had directed them anywhere in particular, except to somewhere that wasn’t Muslim. That was Monday.

On Wednesday, the Goodmans mentioned in a casual conversation that it would be nice to serve somewhere Frank could use his engineering and management experience. A mission leader responded with an idea that defined the next two decades (and counting) of their lives: “Why don’t you go to the Kaumi of South Asia?”

By divinely ordained happenstance, Eileen had spent a semester in college researching the lives of Kaumi women. “They grabbed my heart like none other,” she says, “but I never thought about being called to their country.” The Goodmans knew that the Kaumi were nearly 100 percent Muslim and their homeland had been wracked by decades of violence, insurrection and corruption. But somehow, while Muslims, in general, seemed intimidating and inhospitable to the Goodmans, the Kaumi people, specifically, did not. The need for humanitarian and development work in the region meant engineers and project managers were in high demand. Frank would be able to be a blessing to the community in both physical and spiritual ways.

“Immediately, the idea grabbed us both,” Frank remembers. Eileen describes it as “a divine moment that we were able to set aside our personal requirements and say, This is holy. This is something we need to obey.” They both mentally committed, on the spot, to serving in South Asia among the Kaumi.

Counting the Cost

The first few weeks after orientation, as the Goodmans started telling their friends and family they planned to serve among the Kaumi, they received a lot of confirmation. When Eileen’s dad first heard where they were going, he told his wife, “I would have been surprised if they had said anything else!” Frank remembers thinking, This feels like a yellow brick road. Everything is just lining up.

But not everyone thought it was a good idea to move so close to a major conflict zone right after 9/11. A third of the world’s Muslims live in South Asia. When the Goodmans told a friend in the military their plans, he burst out laughing. Eventually, he noticed Frank and Eileen weren’t laughing with him and asked in shock, “Are you serious?!” Frank jokes they were the first missionaries Pioneers ever received hate mail about. It wasn’t really hate mail, but two or three people did write to say sending a young family to such an unstable area would be a terrible mistake. Eileen gave birth to their first child, Madison, eight months before the Goodmans left for the field.

Frank and Eileen were theoretically aware of the risks when they agreed to move to a volatile area, but as they prepared for departure, the theory became much more real. The agency asked them to prepare a will, provide dental records and identify who should take custody of Madison if they were both killed or kidnapped. “It was very sobering,” Eileen remembers. “We had to go in with our eyes wide open that we were potentially signing off on our own deaths.” While the reality of risk added weight to their departure, it didn’t deter them. Both Frank and Eileen were raised on biographies of missionaries who set out with their belongings packed in coffins and did not expect to return to their home countries.

The Lord used Bible passages about God’s people entering the Promised Land to reassure Eileen about taking her baby to South Asia. She felt Him saying, This is going to be your Promised Land, and if you don’t go because you’re scared of the giants, you’re going to miss out. She wondered, Lord, are we talking about the same place? Is it really going to be my land filled with milk and honey? It didn’t seem possible. But looking back now, she says that’s exactly what it turned out to be.

Making a Life

The Goodmans never expected to stay in South Asia forever. Although Madison was only an infant, Frank and Eileen already anticipated that they would probably not be able to meet her educational and social needs through high school in the Kaumi region of South Asia. “We were there for the long-ish haul,” Frank says, “maybe 15 years.” Still, they jumped in with a long-term mindset. A lot can happen in 15 years.

After six months of language school in the capital, the Goodmans moved to the town of Iman, which sits in a seasonal floodplain. A satellite view gives the impression that a river of sand has burst through a mountain gorge and threatens to inundate Iman’s outlying neighborhoods with rippling dunes. The gridded neighborhoods appear orderly, if monochromatic. The image was taken in the dry season, and from a few thousand feet above the town, every green tree stands out individually against a beige backdrop.

Eileen was surprised by how quickly she began to feel comfortable in a country that had once felt so foreign and intimidating. As she learned the language and developed relationships, she started to see why God had called her, in particular, to minister to Kaumi people. She loved the honesty of her local friends and the relational emphasis in their communities. She admired their passion for hospitality and even grew to respect some aspects of Islam. She told the Lord, This must be why you sent me to a Muslim community. I understand wanting to pass my faith on to my children. I understand wanting my faith to be part of every single thing in my life.

But not everything about life in a conservative Muslim culture was easy for Eileen to accept. Dressing according to local standards became a constant source of frustration. Kaumi women were expected to cover completely from neck to ankle. Eileen constantly wondered, Am I dressed appropriately? Am I covered enough? In the early months, she doubted she would ever master the art of wearing a headscarf properly. Worse still, women’s clothing was made from heavy fabric that didn’t breathe well, and that made the hot season nearly unbearable. During a visit to the U.S., the Goodmans attended an outdoor funeral service in the summer. Frank looked around at all the men sweating in dark suit coats while the women chatted in cotton sundresses. It’s the opposite of Iman! he thought. This must be how Eileen feels all the time.

For as long as she lived among the Kaumi, Eileen continued to wrestle with the tension between the mandates of local custom and her need for personal freedom. She told the Lord, I know the cultural expectations and I’ll play that game, but I don’t want to lose myself and my heart in the process just to conform to others’ standards. Eventually, Eileen figured out compromises to make herself more comfortable while still being modest. For example, she had a traditional women’s outfit made from the fabric usually used for men’s clothing. It was much lighter and cooler.

Seeds in Desert Soil

The Goodmans knew from the start that ministry in South Asia would be hard, and measurable results would likely be scarce. They didn’t expect to preach to enraptured crowds or baptize dozens of converts every Sunday. They did hope for spiritual fruit as they introduced people to Jesus, one by one or family by family. Early on, Eileen asked Frank, “What if we minister here for 15 years and nobody comes to faith?” He answered, “Even if it’s just one person, it’s still worth it.” The impact of their ministry might not be obvious for years, or even generations, but God would cause the seeds of the gospel to eventually grow and bear fruit, even in the seeming spiritual desert of Iman.

Figuring out how they would go about planting those gospel seeds turned out to be a significant challenge for the Goodmans. As they finished full-time language study and transitioned into their long-term roles, they each had different expectations of what those roles would be. Eileen expected Frank to focus on the more obvious aspects of ministry—sharing the gospel with Kaumi men. Neither she nor Frank realized at first that he was better suited for humanitarian aid projects that benefited the people of Iman. He also loved discipleship, but there were almost no believers to disciple.

Of the two of them, Eileen was more drawn to overt ministry. At the time, they didn’t find many models in the missions world of wives having the more prominent ministry role in families. They wondered, Are we doing it wrong? especially as they added another daughter and then a son to the family. Eileen says the key was learning to let go of her expectations of Frank and appreciate how God had made each of them. Over time, and with the support of their field leaders, they figured out a balance that allowed them each to serve in the ways they were gifted.

As the Goodmans settled into life among the Kaumi, Frank had an opportunity to put his management experience to good use as the director of a humanitarian project. Frank’s job was to oversee logistics, finances and personnel. “It was really about managing the politics and preventing corruption,” he explains. Serving the community in practical ways also provided informal opportunities to share the gospel with neighbors and co-workers. Frank’s faith showed in his work, especially his honesty.

In Kaumi culture, people were not only willing to lie for various reasons but felt a responsibility to lie to protect themselves or others from embarrassment. Frank employed a driver to relieve some of the stress of navigating difficult roads. While the driver seemed to have a strong internal sense of integrity, he occasionally reported to Frank that he’d lied to someone on his behalf to cover over an awkward situation. Frank would always tell him, “You don’t have to lie for me. I want to be honest in my work and my personal life.” After many hours of conversation in the car over the years, the driver came to understand that Frank’s integrity was rooted in his relationship with Christ.

Another Kaumi friend, a plumber who did several projects in the Goodmans’ home, was injured in a motorcycle accident. Extended family members told him, “We’re here for you!” But they weren’t. They soon returned to their normal lives, and the plumber was stuck at home, unable to afford private medical care or pay the bribes necessary to receive good care from the public health system. One of Frank’s co-workers was a nurse, and she arranged to come every day to change the bandages on his wounds. Frank couldn’t help medically, but he visited and encouraged him as he recovered. The plumber later shared with Frank, “You guys don’t lie. You tell the truth.”

Years later, when the Goodmans were out of the country and there was significant unrest in Iman, many of their Kaumi friends called to ask for help immigrating to the U.S. They needed letters of reference and help with paperwork. The plumber made an international call just to tell Frank he was doing fine. It was a strange message, so different from all the other calls. Frank doesn’t know for sure, but he wonders if there was more to it, and if, perhaps, the plumber meant that he had found peace in an eternal sense, even if his circumstances were anything but fine.

While Frank directed the humanitarian project, Eileen helped start a small business that employed Kaumi widows. As her kids got older, she also helped start a preschool and kindergarten and trained a local leadership team to run it. She loved her work and the impact she saw on the community, but sometimes she wished for a more direct ministry connection. In quiet moments she thought to herself, Wouldn’t it be amazing if I could manage a team like this, but it was for ministry?

Eileen treasured her interactions with Kaumi women. One day, as she was praying about what relationships to focus on, she felt the Lord nudging her to visit a particular neighbor. She obediently went to the house and started chatting with a mother and daughter. Without any prompting, they suddenly announced, “We’ve seen a Jesus movie, and we love this Jesus person. Can you tell us more about Him?” Eileen was delighted to oblige them. Over several visits and conversations, they fell even more in love with Jesus and put their faith in Him. Eileen connected them with a group of believing Kaumi women who continued to disciple them.

Women also sought Eileen out to tell her about their dreams. One friend dreamed of a bright, bright light. A voice said, “I am the light of the world. Go call Eileen and she will tell you more about Me.” The woman obeyed, and Eileen had a chance to explain to her who the light of the whole world is. “You can’t make this stuff up!” Eileen laughs. “It was crazy! Those were sweet times because so much of life in South Asia was just waiting, being available and then journeying with people in the Scriptures when the opportunities came.”

Hanging On

The Goodmans believed God had brought them to Iman, but there were still times they each thought, We’re done. South Asia is a hard place to live. The heat. The poverty. The oppressive aspects of Kaumi culture and Islam. Corruption. The constant threat, and often reality, of violence. Frank and Eileen felt the weight of it all, and at times they longed for an easier life.

The Kaumi people’s homeland in South Asia simmered with tension between various political, religious and militia groups, all of them armed. Foreigners and local Christians were sometimes targeted. When several of Frank and Eileen’s co-workers were killed in an extremist attack, the Goodmans reacted in very different ways. From Frank’s perspective, the violence was contained in a remote area quite a distance away. While he mourned the loss of colleagues, he saw little connection to their family in Iman. Eileen, on the other hand, was ready to be done. She told Frank, “You’re going to stick this out until there’s a war right at our door.” Something had to change.

The Goodmans returned to the U.S. and sought help at a debriefing program for missionaries. Through some extended conversations with counselors, they realized they were viewing the situation from different perspectives. Frank was evaluating the risks on a rational level. Eileen was in mom mode. They were able to sort through the facts and the emotions and together establish new thresholds that would indicate it was time to evacuate.

Moving On

When Frank and Eileen returned to the field a few months later, the security situation stabilized. Nevertheless, the Goodmans realized that their season of ministry in Iman was drawing to a close sooner than they had originally anticipated. They had always planned to leave South Asia when their kids were teenagers, but now felt their 15-year time frame had been overly optimistic. Madison, their oldest, was only nine, but according to Kaumi culture, she was just three years away from womanhood.

When Kaumi girls reach puberty, their freedoms come crashing down. Their entire lives become focused on protecting their marriageability and family honor. The only respectable places for a teenage girl to go are to school and the homes of relatives. That’s it. Even a rumor of impurity can damage the family’s reputation and deter suitors.

Madison wasn’t Kaumi or in need of suiters, but she was beautiful and spoke Kaumi well. Frank and Eileen expected to have to navigate the cultural complexities of marriage proposals very soon. Madison’s opportunities for social interaction were already restricted by both cultural expectations and safety measures. Kidnapping was still a concern. Constantly mitigating risks added another layer of stress to the whole family. Schooling options were limited, and there were no safe extracurricular activities except English classes, which felt rather pointless for a native speaker. With their leaders’ support, Frank and Eileen decided to leave Iman in three years when Madison would turn 12.

Having years to plan their departure felt very strange in a country where so many foreign workers left suddenly and dramatically. The Goodmans had seen co-workers leave due to health crises, tragedies and violence, some after just a few years, others after decades of ministry. Closure was a rarity.

Frank and Eileen describe their departure as “the antithesis of evacuating.” Eileen handed her ministry responsibilities over to capable Kaumi leaders. A new expat family arrived, and the husband took over Frank’s management role at work. They lined up jobs for everyone who relied on them for an income and connected the small group of believers they were discipling with other Christians who could support them.

Frank says they had more closure than any of their peers who had left in the past. Eileen considers it a gift from the Lord. “Frank and I are both planners. God was very gracious to let us leave in an organized way.” They flew out of Iman for the last time right on schedule, a few weeks before Madison’s twelfth birthday. Frank had already declined several tentative marriage proposals on her behalf. The Goodmans say it wasn’t hard to leave Iman when the time came. They were ready to go.

Just Enough Manna

When Frank and Eileen first started planning their departure from South Asia, they discussed both staying in the U.S. and returning overseas to a different location. The needs of their kids were at the top of their priority list. Eileen’s father had been a diplomat and her family moved every few years both in the U.S. and abroad. Frank’s upbringing was the opposite. When he was five, his family moved a half-mile away from the house where his father was born and his parents still lived there. The stability and rootedness Frank enjoyed as a child had some advantages, but he wanted to continue raising their kids abroad. “We had so much more to offer them as people growing up overseas,” he explains.

The Goodmans were concerned that living in the U.S. for a full year during the transition would indicate to their prayer and financial supporters that they were disengaging from ministry. They worried that people might question their commitment. So, even before leaving Iman, Frank and Eileen started researching other places they could live and minister to Kaumi people. Southern Europe quickly rose to the top of their list. Friends had recently relocated from Iman to a city on the Mediterranean coast and described it as an amazing place for ministry. Frank and Eileen visited them and realized that it was, truly, the next logical step. Large numbers of Kaumi refugees were transiting through the port or settling in town, and many of them were open to the gospel. Outside the social and political pressures of their homeland, they had more freedom to investigate the teachings of Jesus. Another perk of ministry in Europe was that Frank and Eileen wouldn’t necessarily have to learn another language. In many Mediterranean cities, they could get by with English.

During the year the Goodmans spent connecting with prayer and financial partners in the U.S., moving to southern Europe remained the leading option. But life in America had its draws as well. The kids attended public school for the first time and loved it. They were getting a good education and making friends. Madison met a Kaumi family in Walmart and soon Eileen was engaged in a burgeoning ministry with a small community of refugees.

Frank and Eileen were also very, very tired. The stress of 11 years in South Asia had worn them down. Frank’s blood pressure was always significantly higher in Iman than in the U.S. He admits, “There were definitely some signs of us having been there maybe too long.” Eileen remembers, “Just the thought of living there again made me tired.” When the cultural and security pressures they had lived under for more than a decade dissipated, they both began to relax.

As the Goodmans became more and more comfortable with suburban American life, the idea of returning to cross-cultural ministry—even somewhere less intense—felt more and more daunting. Eileen remembers grumbling to the Lord about how amazing America was and how isolating life in Europe would be for the kids. She dreaded homeschooling, especially after they’d had such a good year of classroom interaction. Did they really have to leave?

As the temptation to give up on missions and stay home grew, the Lord brought the story of His provision of manna for the Israelites to Eileen’s attention in a fresh way. While the manna was a wonderful blessing, if they gathered more than they needed for the day, the leftovers would rot and be infested with maggots. Eileen felt the Lord gently chiding her, This year is a good gift for your family, but you’ve gathered enough. If you overstay your welcome, it’s going to turn sour. This is not what I have for you.

That was all the reminder Eileen needed. She realized I don’t want maggots. Let’s go! At the end of the year, the Goodmans packed up again, said goodbye and launched into a new season of life and ministry on the Mediterranean coast. “I’m so glad we did,” Eileen says now. “It’s been very rich.”