We don’t always realize how lonely a missionary can be. We often take everything for granted—as if anyone can have existential struggles in life… except the missionary.

A missionary is expected to be ready and available for every request, every problem—always stepping in and trying to give the very best of themselves. And yet, how often does a missionary need comfort, advice, a friendly presence? Have you ever wondered? Have you thought about it even once?

How often a simple text or a phone call can brighten the heart after a day of misunderstandings, confusion, and constant running—trying never to say “no” to anyone. How often one asks about the meaning of being a missionary for others, trying not to forget anyone and still finding time, among a thousand duties, to hear from those who may have forgotten you exist.

And yet, a missionary has a heart, feelings, memories that bring joy—and nostalgia. Sometimes the evening loneliness feels heavier than on other days. Everything seems owed to others. Nothing is “allowed” to him: not to complain, not to feel unwell, not to speak his mind. He must not and cannot—risking losing what he has already lost deep inside: his time.

The time he gives to others. How much loneliness is built around a missionary—between judgments and prejudice. How much resentment from misunderstandings. How many comments based on hearsay, or on seeing only what we want to see. When will we go deeper?

How much loneliness weighs on a missionary’s baggage: often misunderstood, pointed at, treated like the scapegoat—always wrong while others are always right. And yet, every day he starts again, trying to see the good in others, to justify their needs, as if their shortcomings were his fault.

Every day begins again, thinking of the good in others, knowing that many expect from you (missionary) answers, support, and certainty that can help their lives. How much ingratitude pushes the missionary into solitude. How much distrust breaks dialogues once begun. How fragile relationships can be—until, at the end of the day, no one remembers the missionary as a person.

But he lies down, makes the sign of the cross, prays, and falls asleep in peace.

Tomorrow will be another day… and it will be magnificent.

— Rino Senatore

The solitude of a missionary