Month: June 2014

when the charity case was me

One of the best things that has happened to me since embarking on my kingdom journey is encountering a severely limited independence.

No matter what I do, the truth is I’ll never have the level of independence here that I have at home. There are logistical reasons for this, social reasons, environmental reasons and more. As a result, I cannot escape needing people. And I don’t mean needing others as in “gee it would be nice if I had some help with this.” No. I mean needing people in the sense that if someone doesn’t help me, this will not happen. 

It’s been a long long time since I’ve been in that position. But that’s where I am now. And God is totally stretching me.

He’s also showing me the greatest level of provision through community that I could never imagine. There are so many people here who care about me, about each other, and about others – they are hard working missionaries after all. We worship together, pray together, eat, laugh, shop, and entertain together. And we give and receive together. And I don’t know why I’m so surprised about it, but I am. It surprises me to be shown time after time how much they care and how giving they are. I’m not used to it. I feel like I’ve gone back in time to the early church.

The Believers Form a Community

42 All the believers devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching, and to fellowship, and to sharing in meals (including the Lord’s Supper[a]), and to prayer.

43 A deep sense of awe came over them all, and the apostles performed many miraculous signs and wonders. 44 And all the believers met together in one place and shared everything they had. 45 They sold their property and possessions and shared the money with those in need. 46 They worshiped together at the Temple each day, met in homes for the Lord’s Supper, and shared their meals with great joy and generosity[b]— 47 all the while praising God and enjoying the goodwill of all the people. And each day the Lord added to their fellowship those who were being saved. (Acts 2:42-47)

It’s has been incredibly rewarding to find myself in a position of need and have so many people willing to help meet those needs. It’s breaking down walls for me. I’m experiencing people in a richer and more positive way. This situation is surely increasing my faith in God’s provision.

That said, my fears associated with receiving have not vanished overnight, nor am I completely free from my desire to operate independently. For example, I can’t just jump in my car and go wherever I want to go in a decently ordered manner. Whenever I leave on my scooter – not car – I have to battle for my life on the truly mean streets of b’lore and If I need to travel beyond 5 km, I need help.  I’ll never love that.

However, I’ve recently noticed that I am more inclined to reach out for help with something, even if it may be possible for me to do it alone. By reaching out to others I’ve found I’m less overwhelmed and I’m more energized for the things I do need take on solo. Not necessarily because I saved energy by working together, but because when God shows His faithful provision, it’s energizing and motivating.

I pray that this is not a lesson I quickly forget when I return to the States.

cheerful giver, fearful receiver

I love giving to others, but when it comes to receiving, I shrivel a bit.  This is because I am exceedingly uncomfortable with receiving. At the root of this discomfort is fear, particularly regarding the following two things.

  1. Fear/Anxiety caused by a feeling of indebtedness. Although I’m comfortable giving to people while expecting nothing in return, and giving to those who I know can’t repay me, I fear being in that same position – receiving from others without the ability to repay. While gratitude comes naturally to me, I wonder if I’ll be able to meet a giver’s expectation of proper gratitude. I fear the consequence of encountering some unreasonable expectation of gratitude; that I’lll walk unwittingly into a debt trap. Related to this is the fear that someone will become resentful towards me after giving because they’ve done so out of compulsion. Even God asks us to be cheerful, not resentful givers. “Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.” (2 Cor 9:7) The idea that my gratitude won’t measure up leaves me feeling inadequate and vulnerable to future “abuse.”
  2. Fear of being in a position of complete dependence on people. I was in a situation years ago, alone in a far away land, dependent on someone to help me coordinate my basic needs, and they failed. I learned to be completely dependent on God in that moment (huge growth), but I started to believe that was the only way to make it; just me and my Lord. Since then I’ve refused to consider the fact that God does indeed put dependable people in our path, and we should faithfully trust in His provision, even (especially) when it comes to the people on whom we depend. Rather than trusting Him in this, I decided I’d rather skip needing a person than to deal with the disappointment or want resulting from an unmet need.

By positioning myself exclusively as a giver (or as the elusive receiver) I’ve been walking gingerly, wearing a cast that should have long been removed. There’s nothing loving about nursing your fears; it’s selfish. We know from Paul’s letter to the church in Corinth that love is not selfish. (1 Cor 13:5)  Furthermore, fear itself is a sign of unperfected love. 1 John 4:18 tells us,  “There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.” Thus in both having these fears and holding strongly to them, I’ve shown myself as kind of unloving, despite my willingness to give. 

Thank God, living with a close community far far from home has stretched me to the point where I’ve had no choice but to face each of these fears head on.

I’ll show you the ways, after the break.

I thought Chacos were the answer until I discovered this amazing shoe

If you’re planning to go on a mission trip, or any international wandering for that matter, people will try to convince you that the battle of the best walking shoe is between Teva, Chacos, Merrell and the like. This is simply not true. I invite you to broaden your horizon. The most useful shoe I’ve ever taken on a trip is this one.

cole haan flat

Cole Haan Flat for walking. Years of use and abuse in multi-terrained environments. Also a great driving shoe! (see the wear on the driving foot)

  1. It’s good for walking in the city because it blends quite well. You can tell a lot about a foreigner by her shoes, and when I’m walking around in these, they look like any other common flat you’d see downtown.
  2. It’s good in the village because it suddenly dresses down once covered in dust. They just don’t stand out no matter where I have them on. One exception, in the gym. You should wear actual sneakers to any sports activity. Speaking of sneakers…
  3. In case you’re not doing sports but want that comfy sporty feeling, Cole Haan Nike Air technology let’s you wear sneakers without actually wearing sneakers. They are very comfortable and good for walking a lot on paved sidewalks, paved roads, dirt roads, rock paths, tiled floors, carpeted hallways. These are actually YEARS old which only makes them fit more and more like a sock. AND you can also do THIS if you need to.
  4. Closed toe shoes win in dirty environments. Period. If you don’t want animal or human waste on your toes, keep them covered. For example, people spit a lot here. Full hack and snot spit. One girl was walking in her scandals and a man spit directly on her toes…on her skin. Well if you don’t want to have to bleach-burn the flesh off of your foot after coming in contact with such waste, again I say keep them covered.
  5. And in case they come in contact with waste, these come clean with a simple wipe (they might also burn pretty well, in case you’re like me and just refuse). As mine have not yet come in contact with fresh waste (only the dried waste that eventually becomes part of the dirt roads and sidewalks), this perfect shade of brown has allowed me to wear them endlessly and rarely wipe. I think in 3 months of wearing in a dusty dirty muddy part of the world, I’ve wiped them only once.  A clorox wipe, and a couple of lazy swipes later, they’re good as new.
  6. This style/color matches with 95% of the things I’ve packed/purchased. From local ethnic gear to typical western clothes, I’m good. I can wear them with almost any color dress, jeans, leggings, kurtas, dhotis, chitengas…pretty much everything. And think about it, do Tevas ever look nice with a skirt?? NO.  In fact, 9 times out of 10 you just look awkward wearing those other shoes if you try to wear them with anything other than cargo pants.

So next time you pack up for a week in Guatemala or a year in southern Tibet, consider a non-traditional “mission” shoe. Cole Haan has some great walking flats that do the job, sensibly and reasonably fashionable. There may be other brands that are equally or more comfy/stylish. My point in this is to let you know that you don’t have to go with the default recommendation of Teva/Chacos just because you’re going into a “rough” terrain. You can get one shoe that allows you to move in and out of diverse terrains and social situations.

Do you have a favorite shoe that has taken years of abuse and is still holding together? Feel free to suggest if you’d got any tried and true recommendations!

when reality is not working, sometimes i rely on delusion

One habit from my former life that I brought into this one is running. I love running because it gives me time to think. It also gives me space to process some of the craziness that I experience here.

Sometimes, the need arises for me to invent nicer fantasies out of the crazy realities that I’m actually experiencing. Recently, that exact need arose during one of my runs at the local gym.

Delusions At Work – a brief story

From my panoramic view on the treadmill, I watch as a group of “sweepers” surround an elderly lady, who might also be a “sweeper.”  The old lady is sitting in the road at an unmarked bus stop. The others begin pulling, tugging and seemingly harassing her. The group, which is initially made up of only women, begins to grow to include even men. All are tugging, yanking and pulling at this woman, who clearly doesn’t want to be bothered.
I can’t look away as it’s all unfolding in my line of vision. Thus, I create a nicer story in my head. I tell myself, “These people are actually trying to help her. She is sad and ready to give up, but they are literally trying to pick her up and help her stand. Yes, that’s it. They are trying to help her to see that life is worth living and first you have to get up from the middle of the road. ‘You cannot sit here, it’s dangerous, and the bus can hit you,’ they tell her. ‘This is the bus stop.’”

I imagine she’s collapsing all over the ground because she simply can’t fight anymore, except to say she can’t fight. Her old bones fold neatly on the ground as she falls into roughly the same crinkled position every time they pull or tug. She swats and yanks always falling back into the pavement. “That pavement is not really hard. She doesn’t feel it when she falls into it. She actually has special powers and her skin and bones don’t feel any of the bangs or dings. There isn’t any banging or dinging anyway. See she falls so nicely and gracefully into the ground, no matter how much they tug, pull or snatch. Gee, these people are so insistent on her getting up to live. They are insisting upon her moving out of the road and getting on to a good life.”  My story is getting more ridiculous by the minute.

About 40 minutes into my make-believe story a professional looking woman disbands the group. With a fair amount of lively gesturing and speaking, she makes them all leave the old lady alone. She doesn’t move until they move with her, across the road, away from the elderly lady.

At 47 minutes the red-eye dog (pit bull mutt), trots into my line of vision distracting me with his evil look. 5 seconds later I remember the drama across the way and look back to the bus stop and she’s gone! The old lady is gone. I look down the road in both directions. I can see quite a distance away from my vantage point, but I see nothing. She’s gone. “One of her relatives drove here to pick her up and take her home. It’s a close relative, in fact. And she has coffee and biscuits. And they insist that she also stays until lunchtime. The end.”

It’s a strange way to cope, but sometimes a fantasy happy-tale is about all I can manage. And for another day, what’s left of my sanity remains.