Bang Braid

I am at my halfway mark today.

Looking back, I'm flooded with memories. New situations, breakthroughs, encouraging stories, warm people, a city full of life, calming beaches. Life here, from what I've seen alongside the missionaries, is beautiful.

But there has been a side of that beauty that has been a bit hard to swallow. It is the part of beauty that comes with pain. And though I wish I could write to you that things are only wonderful, there is something much more honest and true in my exposure of the difficult.

I had a hard conversation with one of the missionaries this week. For sake of discretion I won't define gender. I pretty much asked what feelings living in Salvador bring him/her. He/she answered: Loneliness. I don't remember exactly the wording that came next, but I can remember the message. It isn't the kind of loneliness that leaves. It is the kind of loneliness that makes you question your every decision. You don't have family here, whatever you considered as family back in the States. Actual family, neighbors, college roommates, nothing. They're not here. You remember your friend's birthday and you call, but no one answers because they're out celebrating with the people you're never with anymore. You have to buy a one-way plane ticket, and you do not know when you're coming home. It's not easy to cope with. And if you don't know deep with-in yourself why you're here, if you don't feel this IS what God wants for your life- you'll cave. You'll leave. And you'll be defeated.

Okay. I know that sounds super heavy. And I know you might be thinking, it's not like that every time. And you're probably right, it probably doesn't happen like that every single time. But I can't lie and say I haven't seen this kind of suffering in the team here, and I can't say I haven't felt a dose of the same thing even in my short time.

Another one of the missionaries put it this way. When you come from the States to another country, you're like the color blue (stay with me here). Everyone from the States is blue. The people from the country you're moving to are yellow. The longer you stay, you don't lose your blue, but you don't become yellow. You find you just turn green. And suddenly you're a mixture of both that can't fully relate with either culture anymore.

I'm not saying at ALL that if God calls you to missions that you shouldn't go. And I'm not saying at all that He can't fill that lonely void. I just feel it's fair to communicate that moving to another country, learning another language, experiencing a new culture, and becoming a stranger not only to a strange land but to a land you once knew as home..even though it's exciting and risky and adventurous..does not come without sacrifice. There are feelings and occurrences that are less-than-glamorous to say the least.

Most of all, it's important to know that my point in writing all this out is NOT to say that mission work isn't worth it. The missionaries here think it's worth it. Back to the first conversation with the missionary who described the loneliness he/she struggles with. My favorite part of that conversation was when I asked how he/she knew this is where he/she is supposed to be. First words of the answer: Because my life is better because of it.

I left out a lot of the other stuff that he/she struggled with since living here. I was speechless when I heard the answer was that life was better here. Maybe it's simply because suffering for the sake of following God's calling makes life more full than living a life of ease without purpose. The missionary said that if he/she still lived in the states, his/her faith and marriage would be lost by now. After hearing his/her other struggles, I know that statement is all too true. Somehow never feeling a sense of connection brought him/her to a true place of belonging.

Everyone's story will be different. Obviously not everyone's life would be better in Salvador, Brazil. Sometimes God calls us to remain in a place rather than travel far. Sometimes the more challenging thing to do is stay where we are rather than running away to another distant somewhere. I guess it's just a matter of being. Learning to exist in God wherever He places us with open minds, open eyes, and open hearts. I just thought I'd show a little honesty that with that openness comes vulnerability to suffering.



In other news :)

Happy Bahian Independence Day!
Of course, also, not so happy day either. It's been raining pretty hard tonight, harder than I remember noticing since we've been here. Coincidence? I think not. World Cup, it's been fun..

Next week will be an exciting week. It is a campaign week, which basically means we have a couple families coming in from the States to help us in our cause here. We will be doing a lot of service projects, Bible studies, worship, etc., and will end with a VBS Saturday! I am looking forward to it. More to come.