I feel that it is my responsibility to write and to keep our family, friends and supporters up to date on what we are doing here. We are so conscious of the fact that we are only here because of the generosity and calling of others to give and support us, and we don’t want to neglect communication and connection with those that have given so much. But, I find myself in a difficult place because I don’t know what to write. Sometimes honesty isn’t what people want to hear, but it’s all I’ve got.

Often I have daydreams of different people from home coming to visit us, and I try to picture explaining to them what life is like here….what our life here is like. Each time, I give up on the daydream realizing that it seems an impossible thing to communicate. Even those who visit temporarily cannot understand, as things appear different when looking through a long-term lense. It’s like the difference between looking at something with the naked eye and then looking at it through a microscope- you are seeing the same physical object, but your proximity to it alters your view drastically. I am stuck in the microscope, and I can’t remember what things look like without it.

I don’t think it is necessarily a bad thing that I have a different view of things than others may. I think what scares me is that I don’t understand my own view and myself in light of this new world we live in. When I lived in America, I knew myself. I knew who I was, where I was going; I knew what was important in life and what wasn’t. I knew my spiritual self. Now, I feel like someone put my life in a blender, turned it on high-speed and walked away, forgetting that you are supposed to turn it off at some point.

I am not sure I remember on most days why we are here. We came because we felt Jesus calling us to love other people, that He was calling us to love in a way that most people never understand- wholly, sacrificially and selflessly. When we made that decision, I felt a sense of calling and clarity that made it the undeniably right choice. I wanted to offer whatever love and hope I had been given to those who needed it the most. But, here I am and I’m not sure I have anything of value to give anyone, and it seems that the person I am most concerned with helping is myself. Why is it that I have traveled the whole world in an act of supposed selfless obedience, and the only person I can think about is myself? Why is it that when you set out to do God’s work you realize that you are anything but Godly?

I know most missionaries write home and tell people all of these encouraging stories of the wonderful work they are doing. I think that, God-willing, we will have those stories as time goes on. But, you know, I’m just not there yet. The truth is that this is just hard. It is not hard in that we are hungry or poor or sick. But it is difficult in that we are being forced to look at life and at ourselves in a different way, and it is hard to realize that when push comes to shove, you aren’t as good as you thought you were. It took me a while to find God in the world I was born into, and I think it is going to take me a little while to find Him and understand Him in this one too.

My child

As I look at you
I see the eyes of a child-
Eyes of innocence
Eyes of hope
Eyes filled with inexpressible joy.

But those eyes have not always been innocent-
They have looked death in the face,
They have cried tears of despair,
They know sorrow beyond comprehension.

I wish I could promise you
That the struggle is over,
That peace has laid its hand on you.
But, my child, I cannot promise you peace;
Your struggle has only just begun