Our guinea pig, Dobby, getting some fresh air down by the pool.
The boys are downstairs playing at a friend's condo unit, and Seth will be coming home from school soon. His rooster alarm on his Kindle is set for every day at 3:00 p.m., so when I hear it, I start to miss him. I think it's funny how he reminds us of him this way. I sure didn't set the thing. :)
Living overseas, I feel sometimes like I'm living kind of a funny 3/4 life. So many of the things that I did in the U.S., I don't do here, but it's not like it feels like I've replaced those things with other things. We do very little in the evenings because traffic is so crippling, and no one wants to get in their car and spend 2 hours going 3 km. Small groups and choir practices and such aren't on the weeknight agenda for most expats in Manila, unless they're walking distance. I don't go out to the library or swing by the grocery store. I may be living as full of a life as I did in the U.S. if I sat down and calculated it, but it doesn't FEEL that way. You know? My life feels quieter and more closed off than it did. Maybe it's because we're home more often during the day, maybe because I've got one less student at home, maybe because I can't understand most of the conversations taking place around me when we leave our building, or maybe because I don't drive my own car very often. But I feel more still and often more fragile and more unsure of myself.
I'm not alone in this. David feels the same quite often. His job is overwhelming and full of whirling fragments that he has to corral. He said once that it feels like he's putting together a plane in the air while flying it. My guy struggles to keep up with the deluge of emails and deadlines, and when he misses something, it's hard on him. He wakes up in the morning and braces himself for another day as often as I do.
I read an article today that someone posted in their Facebook feed from our church planting network in the U.S. What jumped out at me from this today was all the examples of the things he'd done in the past that hadn't led to increased confidence. You think that you're going to do something out of your comfort zone, and it's going to make you feel stronger and more resilient. Maybe you think you'll gain some incredible insight or wisdom that you can carefully pack in your Life Toolbox and take out for future use later? (I'm realizing that that was what I was hoping for on some level from our time overseas.)
Instead, what you get is a crushing awareness of how puny you are, how weak you are, and how much you just can't do ___ (insert Hard Thing here) without Him. I don't think anyone really gets excited about signing up for that lesson. Humans are so quick to forget their need for God without being forced to see how dependent they are. I guess it should come as no surprise that our year here has been plagued with medical problems, work challenges, and decisions we would rather not have made.
My Instagram feed isn't going to show the tough stuff. But I can tell you that I was sitting by one of the most beautiful lakes in the world, watching my sons play in the surf, when I got a text from a nurse friend telling me that the open wound on my hand that I'd been dealing with for months was infected, and I needed to get to a local doctor. I cried.
By the time we got back on a plane to go home from New Zealand to the Philippines, it looked like this (despite 4 days of antibiotics) and was oozing pus. David had coughed up blood from a chest infection he got as a result of his run in with a motorcycle in November.
People have this desire to conquer and see the world. We chase comfort and experiences. But we are still confronted with our weak flesh and the realization that we are not in charge and this world isn't enough, no matter where we go and no matter how beautiful our surroundings.
I have wanted to shake my fist at God. "We're here because we think you asked us to come. Why isn't this easier? Why aren't you smoothing our path? I'm just waiting for the next thing to hit at this point." But I guess the answer may be because if it was easy, I would think this was about me and David and about what we can offer. And it hasn't been easy, so we throw up our hands and admit we need Him to be of any use at all.
So that's what I've got on a normal Wednesday in Manila. Peace out.
