In this land, I am a stranger. A foreigner. An outsider.
Somebody who sticks out like a sore thumb wherever I go. Coming from a country
where there is such a variety of people that it takes some crazy flamboyant
person too really stick out, it is a strange and almost terrifying feeling to
be somewhere when you are so noticed.
But despite my strangeness, these people have taught me the
true meaning of hospitality. They have turned a possible enemy into a friend,
even family. I feel like the apostles traveling to teach; they
immediately go to the house of fellow followers and are met with love and care. These people were not inconvenienced by them, but welcomed them with joy and thanksgiving. I'm beginning to understand what hospitality truly is.
I am like any American, we like our freedom, our control,
our schedule and our individuality. In this country I am stripped of most of
those things. Here I don’t have a car, a license, some conversations I don’t
even understand and need a friend to help me make sense. I don’t have the control to go
where I want when I want to, I can't even live most places without permission. I am not
telling you this to go “Oh poor Mookie, you are so brave.” Not at all. In fact.
I am learning that even thought it is difficult, it is sanctifying me in ways I
never thought possible. It is forcing me to rely on a community of people who
help each other and teaching me more:
-Humility. I do not know everything, my way is not always
right, truly embracing a new culture is rewiring your brain, it's hard sometimes. Also, I NEED help. A lot. I went to do paperwork and run all these errands
with My Farmer’s teacher, who has a vehicle, and he speaks English. Amidst all
the confusing terms in the native language and the trips across the border, I
realized without My Farmer’s teacher….I really was quite helpless. It is important to realize you are not and never were in control.
-Patience. I have to wait. I have to wait to get married. I
have to learn a whole new language, plus get better at one I already know. You
have to learn to speak like a child first. And be patient with yourself when
your speech doesn’t come as quickly as your thoughts. Even in small things.
Everything here takes time, whether it’s in a hospital when it takes an hour
for a doctor to even ask you, why your Fiancé is laying in the hall in extreme
pain. Or your waiting to leave somewhere…for two hours, nobody is in a rush
here.
-Solitude. This a wonderful and difficult time for me as I
am trying to learn and long-term adjust to a new culture, but there are many
hours of the day when I am in the house alone to learn, alone to discover who I
am and more of who my Father is. I realize that we as Americans HATE silence or
idleness. I am trying to discipline myself to be able to sit and not touch my
phone, or a book or anything but just. Be. And learn more about the solitude of the soul and the depths of my creator.
I am beginning to really adjust to this in-between-time at the
teacher’s house, while My Farmer finishes school. There are about four families
that live on his property, and about ten different people that live in his
house. Through their love, I am slowly becoming no longer a stranger. I am beginning to cook with Loue, to play
with Bora and Billy, to do laundry with Nee, to laugh or cry all
night with my roommate Vat. To help the students with their English homework. To encourage the teachers when they are tired. To have a role here. Because they gave me freedom
to do so. I am not a burden I am a functioning part of their live.
I have never been more reliant on the kindness of strangers.
I have never been so quickly enveloped into another world with the freedom of
joining their community. Its quite a beautiful thing that I believe we miss out
on in America because we are too busy living in suspicion, in cynical fear, and
in very important “busyness”. What would you do if a stranger knocked on your
door asking for help? What would I do? It’s not a common thing to happen in our
culture today. But after my experience here, and being “the stranger” I view
the scenario a little differently. And when I read my Father’s book, this
hospitality, this freedom and breaking of bread offered to strangers, is seen
again and again as a gift.
I am no longer a stranger. And I am beginning to strive to
create freedom for other strangers…so they may become friend.
Mookie we are so proud of you and continue to pray for God's favor you. 💞
ReplyDeleteDear Mookie, I will try again to leave a post. I left a short one earlier today that seemed to go through just fine but please don't post that one. It was experimental.
ReplyDeleteMookie, I so love how you are sharing your life with us through this blog. (This is a blog, right?) lol!! I totally understand what you're talking about. We, in the US, generally are so isolated and alone, even when we're with lots of other people. We are so worried about our space, our stuff, and our time. We miss out on community the way our Father knows we need it.
I went on a week-long trip to Haiti this past summer. It was the hardest but best week of my life. The people there are so poor but they freely shared whatever they had with us. One day when we were traveling we stopped in a village because we all needed to use the bathroom. A woman, who definitely wasn't expecting over 20 Americans to go through her yard and use her outhouse, welcomed us. I was the first to take advantage of her hospitality. When I emerged from the outhouse I found her standing there with a bowl of water, soap and a towel. She had pumped the water from a well for us. I was overwhelmed with emotion as I washed my hands. When I got back to the van, I wept. Her sweet act of kindness touched me so deeply. I'm crying now just thinking about it. What would I have done if 20 people, much less foreigners, came to my door and asked to use my bathroom? I still ask myself that question and I'm trying to allow my heart to soften and grow so that one day I will be thrilled to share EVERYTHING I have with others.