Please Tell My Son "No!"

Om works at our house today, which means Isaiah and he will play football together for about 30 minutes while I get Om’s 10:00am break time snack ready. Today I fried up some bananas while keeping a watchful eye out the back window.

Om picked up my four year old’s shoes from by the door and told him to put them on so they could play. Instead, my darling son slapped the shoes out of Om’s hands and laughed in his face. I immediately turned the heat off the stove and went outside to have a talk with him.

We all know kids push boundaries. No, you may not climb the walls. Use gentle hands with the dog. Where is your inside voice? Yes, you have to brush your teeth. Yes, you have to sing twinkle twinkle little star while you wash your hands, make them really bubbly. Say please. Say thank you. Look at my eyes and listen. It seems to never end, but eventually it does sink in and my kiddo realises the boundary line isn’t going to budge. No matter how many times you ask, Mom will not buy all the snacks at the checkout counter. It’s just not going to happen. 

Or at least it shouldn’t happen. 

What if the shop owner sees you begging and that mom isn't buying so reaches in the candy pot and hands you treats? What if after you slap the shoes out of Om’s hands he doesn’t say anything? What if you throw a public temper tantrum and while your mom is trying her hardest to ignore you, a stranger comes up making pity noises and hands you juice box? What if you order grownups around and they do what you say?

A friend once told me the story of her toddler daughter crying loudly because she didn’t want to take a nap. A neighbour actually came to the gate and told her the child is crying and she should tend to her. My quick witted friend replied with a smile, “Oh no. It’s healthy for her to cry. It’ll make her lungs strong.” 

“How do you handle it?” I ask expat friends, and their responses are just as diverse as our children are. 

So I give the candy back to the shop owner. I have a stern talk with my son in front of Om about how he is expected to behave. I tell the juice box stranger that my son is angry, not sad, and that he needs to listen to his mom. I try to stop worrying that somehow I am offending people here by how I discipline and what I expect of my son.

Often people back home remark how living overseas is such a great opportunity for a child. I totally agree, but on the really rough days I think, Oh boy, I’d better watch out. This living overseas thing is a great opportunity to turn my sweet, smart boy into a spoiled, bossy brat.

 

Then I repeat the most prayed mom prayer ever - Lord help me! 

Brave jungle explorer

One Year In: A Letter to Myself

Dear Fresh-off-the-plane-self,

It’s hard to believe a year has past since you first caught sight of these jungle thick mountains. In some ways it feels like you just arrived yesterday, and in others like you’ve lived here a lifetime.

So much has happened and I don’t mean to freak you out, but you’ll get your ass kicked this year. You'll have the good old honeymoon phase to cushion the blows, but it still cuts.  

This year, you’ll get super sick. You’ll get amoebic dysentery, worms, giardia, and typhoid (twice), not to mention the common cold. You are so afraid of tropical diseases right now, but you’ll soon find out that even if you are tremendously sick in your body, you are alive and well in your spirit. Your husband will get sick too, but don’t worry, your three year old will stay healthy through it all.

You are going to write a blog post about how you are losing your mind and the response will overwhelm you. I know you will push that publish button through tears and fear that you are revealing too much and the “What will people say?” echoing in your mind is deafening. Here’s the thing, you’ll press that button and that one post will open up a whole world to you. You’ll receive message after message from people who will pour out their hearts to you because they can relate in some way. From that moment on you’ll find tremendous freedom in writing and stop caring about what others think. 

But soon, someone you love and respect is going to tell you that you share too much and make people uncomfortable. It’ll rattle you, but you’ll hold firm. You’ll find that honesty creates family and you’ll be better loved and supported than you can even dream is possible now.

You are going to make a huge cultural blunder and very nearly ruin a relationship. Good news though, you’ll get help. People will literally fly in to help clean up your mess. You learn so much, repent so much, and are forgiven so much. It’ll be ok.

You are going to screw up your marriage this year. That one hurts a lot. You’ll blindly charge ahead, dragging your husband behind you. Yeah, it’s as bad as that. Eight months later you’ll see the emotional chasm between you and realise those little cracks shouldn’t have been ignored. You’ll repent and your husband will forgive you. You’ll both become aware of each other’s vulnerabilities and be more careful to tend them. After all is said and done, you’ll never be more happy to have the husband you do. You guys rock together.

Your son is going to be just fine. He won’t get malaria or typhoid or anything. He’s going to be healthy and happy and make friends. You are worried now that you won’t be able to home school him, but the truth is he’ll beg you everyday and even on weekends to do school together. 

He’s going to be so interested in ministry too. You’ll pour over maps together and talk about people groups all over the world. You’ll stand back in wide eyed amazement as your three year old says, “Mommy, see those people over there? Let’s go tell them about Jesus.” He’ll do it too and you’ll translate for him. 

This year is going to be a roller coaster, but you’ll make it. I'm here a year later and guess what? Today, you'll be looking forward to the future and wouldn’t trade this last year for the world.

So relax! I'll see you in a year.

***

Learning to live cross culturally is like...lipstick?

I love a good analogy. Remember when I wrote about the muddy red road, pencils, assassins,  teething pains, and lessons from my puppy? Analogies help me better understand truth and emotion, and when it comes to adjusting to living cross culturally my love for analogies increased a gazillion percent.

So when I read the invitation over at Velvet Ashes to link up and share thoughts, wisdom, stories and fears about how God prepared me/prepares us for serving overseas I had one thought, "Ooo! A perfect time for analogies!"

Almost there! Preparing to head to Papua.

With the phrase in mind, "Learning to live cross culturally is like _________." I opened up an online random word generator and with one quick click had five completely random words to fill in the blank. Lipstick, band, spaghetti, gate, and screwdriver.

I smiled and silently nodded my head. Yes, of course living cross culturally is like that...

Learning to live cross culturally is like wearing lipstick.

While I love the idea of wearing lipstick I hate actually wearing it. I hate how it's sticky, dries my lips, stains cups, and most of all I hate my husband's complete refusal to kiss me because he'd end up wearing it too.

Learning to live cross culturally is like lipstick because while I love the idea of being a well adjusted culturally able missionary, the process of becoming well adjusted kinda sucks. Sure, the result is pretty, but it's also uncomfortable. It's sticky, dries up emotional energy, leaves it's mark on everything around you, and even stifles relationships.  

Learning to live cross culturally is like being in a rock band.

Like a really good rock band, the kind where the musicians meld together and magic happens. The kind of band that produces music that decades later still stirs powerful emotions. It's beautiful.

Or...

It's like a really great band's breakup. The kind where the members' individual struggles, personalities, and opinions crush relationships and abruptly end an otherwise promising future. But we don't have to end this way. See screwdriver analogy. 

Learning to live cross culturally is like eating spaghetti.     

As a 19 year old I spent 8 months as a laborer on a construction site in Benin, West Africa, building a medical clinic. Three ladies cooked the work crew lunches each day.

One day, we brought spaghetti for them to prepare. I'll never forget the look on the rest of the work crew's faces as the stared at their plates of wiggly pasta. "It looks like worms!" one shouted and no amount of, "It's only pasta." would change their minds.

When you live cross culturally even something as 'normal' as spaghetti isn't normal any more. 

Learning to live cross culturally is like opening a gate.

Like opening hundreds of gates. Little by little, with every new word learned, relationship made, meal shared, story heard, prayers spoken, gates open and we connect. The 'locals' stop being locals and become neighbours, friends, and family. 

Learning to live cross culturally is like a owning screwdriver. 

Four months into learning how to live here in Papua, even though I don't feel prepared or even equipped for this task, I see clearly that God has given me the tools I need to not only survive, but to live well.

Those quirky parts of me, like the analogy loving part that I would have never thought had any connection to living a well adjusted life overseas, have absolutely everything to do with it. Seeing life through stories helps me to process, make sense of, and adjust to the world around me. Analogies are my screwdriver for life.

But what if I need a wrench or a hammer and all I have is a screwdriver? That's the most brilliant part of all. Those times when I don't have the proper tool for the job, someone else does.

As you prepare for living in a new culture, or to step into whatever challenge lies ahead of you, know this: You'll never really be prepared. And that's perfectly ok. You don't have to be.

"I pulled you in from all over the world,
    called you in from every dark corner of the earth,
Telling you, ‘You’re my servant, serving on my side.
    I’ve picked you. I haven’t dropped you.’
Don’t panic. I’m with you.
    There’s no need to fear for I’m your God.
I’ll give you strength. I’ll help you.
    I’ll hold you steady, keep a firm grip on you."

Isaiah 41:9-10 The Message