Sometimes Things Are Hard

Ugh. Sometimes on the mission field you soar, and sometimes you hit the wall. We have done the latter, folks. It's nothing specific. There's no giant tragedy or drama. Nothing tangible or terrible is wrong, but things are also just not right. Not easy. Not feeling happy happy. Last year at this time we were kindasorta just starting to get over our initial culture shock and find our sea legs (mission field legs?). I don't know why or what exactly happened, but somehow the waves of everyday life have caused us to feel off kilter again. Yo ho ho, a pirate's life for us.

Thankfully, we understand that this happens sometimes, no matter where you are or what you're doing. It's part of life. We've done it before. We'll do it again. God's promises are no less real in the tough times than they are in the easy ones. We're just finding this especially challenging because it is hard enough to proceed without equilibrium when you are on home turf, but even more so when the world around you still feels so foreign.

Learning a language is rough. Learning a culture is rough. Working in a place that has some core values which are pretty different from yours is rough. Watching your loved ones give their all and still struggle is rough. Still struggling yourself after you've given your all is rough. The quicksand of one rough thing after another is... well, rough. (Are you sensing a theme?) Perhaps roughest of all is that underneath all of the other stuff is the endless throb of, "You're not making a difference... you're not making a difference... you're not making a difference..."

That really sucks.

Honestly, it would all be enough - all of the changes and challenges, all of the heartache and helplessness, all of the struggle and strife - if we just didn't feel like our work was for nothing. I know that's a lie from Satan, and that Satan is a busybody and a poopyhead. I know God wouldn't send us somewhere where our efforts would be wasted. I know that we're planting seeds and watering what other people have planted. I know that God honors and uses even our most feeble of efforts, and He promises to use the foolish to confound the wise. But, by golly feeling foolish is getting awfully old, and our efforts do seem pretty darn feeble right now.

So, um... this is where I sum things up in a really cool way, and tie a scripture bow on everything to make it all sunshine. Sorry, the rainy season has lasted longer than usual, so I'm even all out of sunshine these days. At least I still have the Word. God said in Zechariah 4:10 that He doesn't despise humble beginnings, but rejoices to see the work begin.

Oh, Lord Jesus - sometimes it feels like we're at more of an ending than a beginning, but I know you know more than we do. I can at least faintly recall the feelings of hope you planted long ago, and the glimpses you gave which told us we'd be fruitful for your glory on the mission field. I guess that means there's more work to do, 'cause I know you don't lie.

I can't say that I'm rejoicing much these days over the work you've started through us, either. For now it will have to be enough to know that you are rejoicing. I'll have to abide in the idea of you boogying in Heaven over the oh-so humble and messy beginnings it feels like we're slogging through. After all, that's what your Word promises that you're doing.

We desired that our lives would make you happy. Would make you smile. Would make you rejoice. That's all we ever wanted, even more than fruitfulness that we could count and quantify and package into neat little boxes that make us feel good. Thanks for the reminder that we're doing what we said we wanted, even if it doesn't always feel that way. I just have one request - turn up the music a bit louder, would you? I could stand a bit of dancing right now.

Missionary Momma

Being a missionary mom is tough. :(

Before we left, I reminded the Lord that I had kiddos, and He promises in Isaiah 40:11 to lead gently those who have young. And, as always, He's been faithful, but not necessarily in the way that I expected.

Our oldest daughter is a sophomore. Let's just say her adjustment to life in Guatemala, and especially her new school, has not been an especially easy one. I'll spare you the details, but it was bad enough that before the end of her first semester last year, her dad and I were ready to pull her out of school and home school her.

But, then we asked her about it.

Instead of giving a knee-jerk reaction based on her emotions (which most definitely would have led her to come home for her education), she prayed. She sought the Lord. She put His desires above her own, and told us that she felt like He wanted her to stay there to help her classmates and the few friends she had made, and that there were benefits to staying at school that she felt outweighed the challenges.

My kid.
My precious little girl.
The one who used to be my tiny baby.

She prayed to God and got a Word from Him about her life, and her plans, and her ministry here. That's the kind of thing that makes a mama super proud, but that doesn't mean it's made it any easier to watch her walk it all out. Often (almost daily) things are still pretty tough for her at school. It takes everything within me not to walk into the office and tell them that she's done, and then take her home where I know she'd blossom once again in home schooling just like she did before.

She'd be happier. Her life would be easier and more convenient. She wouldn't be as stressed out. She'd reopen old doors of opportunity that had been closed to her when we moved. She'd have more time for herself, more familiarity, more comfort, more peace, more fun, more, more, more...

You know -

More of all of the things we very willingly walked away from in order to serve the Lord in Guatemala.

More of all of the things that we decided were worth living without because the benefits of life here far outweigh the challenges.

More of all of the things that make it hard for our loved ones when they look at the life we've chosen.

And, why did we choose it?

Because we prayed to God and got a Word from him about our lives, and our plans, and our ministry here.

<crickets> 

(Ok, God - I see what you did there.)

Like I said - being a missionary mom is tough, but I really wouldn't have it any other way. :)

Enough!

My handsome hubby (left) with his cohorts in Nepal!

Mark's been gone for over a week. I've only been able to Skype with him once and message him a handful of very brief times. The last one was at 2:00 in the morning days ago, during which he warned me that he would have even less access to internet over the next several days than he has already. I've had enough already!!! <sniff sniff>

Mah hubby's gawn, an' I got de blues.
<insert sad harmonica music here>
Oh, yeah, I sed my hubby's gaaaaaaaaawn, an' I got de bluuuuuuuuues.
<more harmonica, and maybe a bit of twanging string bass>
I got dem blu-u-u-ues, I got de missionary wife blues.
<snazzy sort of 'mwah mwaaaaaah' musical ending>

Only, not really.

Yes, I miss my husband. Yes, I wish he was here. Yes, life is easier when he's around in oh so many ways. And, yes, we're super excited to see him on Sunday. But, we're also fine. He's doing exactly what God has asked him to do. He's telling people about Jesus, loving orphans, encouraging and strengthening those who are doing the Lord's work in Nepal. I'm doing exactly what God has asked me to do. I'm teaching and equipping Guatemala's future leaders, praying with and for those in need, supporting and loving my colleagues. What's not to love? Honestly, I can't imagine a better life. It's like God showed us the sweet spot and then allowed us the blessing of living there every day.

He's so good.

That doesn't mean things are easy, but they are good. Some of my students have recently shared deep hardships and challenges with me. But, they've shared them with me. I see grinding poverty all around me, and often (as was the case yesterday) all I can do is offer some simple food, a Bible, and a few dollars. But, I can offer simple food, a Bible, and a few dollars. Perhaps hardest of all, my friends and family are struggling with profoundly difficult and painful situations, and all I can do is pray. But, I can pray.

I went into mission work with an idea that I was going to change the world for Jesus. And, I am, but it looks different than what I expected. The things I do now are the same things I've always done, but I do them more often and more willingly. Somehow I find myself less hesitant to enter in to the heartache, and the struggle, and the poverty, and the challenges, and, and, and... than I ever was before. I don't have any more answers, but I've realized that's ok. I never was the answer to begin with, but He always was, is, and always will be.

 That's enough for me. It's enough motivation to jump into the thick of things. It's enough equipping to enter in where I don't feel equipped to enter in. It's enough comfort for when things get hard. It's enough peace for when I can't find peace any other place. It's enough, because He's enough.