The cost of committment

Imagine receiving the following letter from someone who wants your daughter's hand in marriage.

I have now to ask, whether you can consent to part with your daughter early spring, to see her no more in this world; whether you can consent to the departure and her subjection to the hardship and suffering of a missionary life; whether you can consent to her exposure to the dangers of the ocean; to the fatal influence of the southern climate of India; to every kind of want and distress, to degradation, insult, persecution, and perhaps a violent death. Can you consent to all this, for the sake of him who left his heavenly home and died for her and you; for the sake of perishing, immortal souls; for the sake of Zion, and the glory of God? Can you consent to all this, in hope of soon meeting your daughter in the world of glory, with the crown of righteousness, brightened with the acclamations of praise which shall rebound to her Saviour for the heathens saved, through her means, from eternal woe and despair?

Such a letter was written to John Hasseltine by Adoniram Judson (1788-1850), who was a American pioneer missionary, concerning John's daughter Nancy. John gave his daughter the freedom to make up her own mind. Adoniram and Nancy married. Nancy and both her children died in Burma.

I find these words deeply challenging. Missionary service is not as difficult now as it was then (travel is easier) yet we seem to place less stress on calling people to go overseas. It makes me wonder about my own commitment to overseas work. How would I feel to be called to leave the comfortable ministry I am in? How would I feel about my children growing up to serve in dangerous parts of the world? Are the people in our congregation willing to let their offspring go on more than short/medium term projects overseas?