 |
| Loving on our neighbors from the Ngobe Village |
RAW
To me, this journey of walking out the call or direction for
my life has been enlightening/didactic to say the least.
My life has always been filled with ginormous requests to take
on challenges and overcome them.
Why did I leap into missionary service four years ago? I was at
the top of the mountain. “But
where do I go from the top?” I thought.
“Nowhere but down again” I replied.
My pattern of life was a series of valleys and peaks. So my innate drive would motivate me to the
next peak even though I knew that a valley would soon follow. I suppose I was tired of the climb or at least
God knew that I needed rest for my soul.
I was at a crossroad in my life that invited change. I joined the team of Youth with a Mission and currently I chose to complete my missions training in Panama.
I spent a couple of weeks with my family and friends in Southern
California before leaving for Panama. I
treated every day as if it were the last time I would see of them. I guess this
new journey of leaving the country for the first time and traveling alone
really did weigh on my sound judgment from time to time. When the moment came for my sister to kiss
me and hug me goodbye, all my pent up emotions about this trip rushed to my tear
ducts. At that vulnerable moment, I felt
a little frightened of the unfamiliar. I
am always the sure-footed one. Even at
the ticket counter an opportunity to abandon this journey arose but
everything in me fought to board the plane.
When the plane landed in Panama City, my confidence walked me off the plane but soon an uncomfortable uncertainty consumed me. Maybe because I am in a foreign country? I don’t speak the
language, hence, can’t read the signs. I
have no idea what I am supposed to do or where to go. I surrender all my cash to
board the plane. This made me realize that my entire life was summed up in this
one moment; I have no clue what I am doing but some how I will get through this
and figure it out. I rarely consider the worst-case scenario.
I am usually a person that considers the glass half full. It occurred to me that I have been building this
wall of protection mortared with confidence since the age of six. Please don’t think that I lack humility
because I certainly confess that I have a lot to learn but when you don’t know
what you don’t know then it appears to be arrogance and over confidence. I
would rather be overly poised then be paralyzed or imprisoned by fear.
When I timidly, and probably due to fact that I been awake
for 24 hours now, made my way to the area where I was to exit the airport, I
was not greeted with the Aloha, the warm welcome that I am accustomed to back
home. The airport personnel seemed cold
and unfriendly. I was feeling a bit
delirious and my inhibitions were heighten.
I caught myself being a bit disappointed and personally affected by
their lack of concern in showing a small measure of kindness. After all, I was new here and I need your
help! I was brushed off as if I didn’t
matter. I immediately retreated into my
protective shell. “That’s okay,” I
thought, “I can take care of myself. “ I was filled with a disappointment,
which is familiar to me. I have learned
to bury ugly and put on a smile. That
seems to make things feel better, at least temporarily. I finally made it to the final exit
point. The attendant stamped my passport
and that lift up my countenance. That
put a skip in my step. Even though she
was unpleasant. It a quick moment to
reason storage of kindness, I resolved that her patience had run out after
several attempts to communicate with me in Spanish and realizing I did not
understand her. Thank you Jesus that these interactions did not yet defeat
me. My countenance was fighting to stay at
the surface of this sea but I was getting more and more tired with every
unfriendly wave that would crash over me.
But my determination to keep me swimming right back to the surface to
caught my breath. There was comfort in
knowing that my final destination would greet me with security and comfort and
kindness.
I made it out of the airport. I quietly thanked God for extending me favor
to keep my cooler of food that I brought into the country. The customs attendant seemed to be over look
it and I was grateful because I had no extra cash for food. I was gifted with the friendship of my taxi
drivers. They liked me enough to take me
to lunch and show me the city before I had to make my final plane ride to Bocas
del Toro island and boat taxi to Isle de Bastimentos, my final destination; my
new home for seven months.
I have been living on island for four months now. Every inch of this island is displayed on my
body; the jungle environment, 100 degrees of high humidity,
bugs constantly feasting on my flesh, insects larger than my shoe size,
sleeping on a porcelain floor, muddy
paths, isolation, sleepless nights, military cold showers, living in community, learning to live peaceably with those around me, no where to explore or escape, and no room for illness or injury for lack of medical assistance, no where to hide, physically
demanding work duties, and surrounded by water that is infested with jelly fish.
Miraculously, I am still open hearted but physically and spiritually
depleted. This is a new kind of
suffering. A selfless suffering even
though I battle selfishness. I did not originally
come here for selfish pursuits. I came
here because my God asked me to go.
Little did I know His intentions for me.
This endeavor has been different from the rest. There is literally no escape for the
spiritual or physical hardships. We are
marooned on an island. I have been
accompanied by unbearable challenges. This
is a journey that requires a shedding of my old nature and skin. In doing that, I feel like I am blindly
cutting through trails of dense and endless rainforest. I can hardly see 5 feet in front of me
because of blinding torrential rains.
The paths are slippery. The
directions are unknown and at times darkness falls and I have no light. I am dehydrated from a draining of tears,.
As a Christian, I joyously sacrifice my worldly pleasures
and conveniences for the good of mankind.
Panama has been a whole new level of laying down my life, laying down my
rights, completely surrendering, depending on the unknown, facing my past and
working towards a healthy future.
This may seem hard to grasp but this sacrifice has been a privilege
in many ways. This is by far the hardest
I have been pushed - emotionally, spiritually and at this season, physically,
for an extended period of time.
I came to face the unknown and this journey has not
disappointed my expectations. Actually,
it has exceeded my expectations, which propels me forward on this journey to
the bitter end. Days are filled with
grit and pain; living amongst hardship has been a beautiful unraveling of my
soul, my spirit, my mind, my heart, my whole being. This trip has broken me completely and
exposed the true nature of my character.
I am raw. I am emotionally and
spiritually exhausted; battling defeat weekly.
But I know my inner spirit drives me and will not allow me to give up. Many days I have been desperate for the
friends back home but in their absences I have found a true friend in the one
who asked me to come for His sake.
This journey has broken me down and exposed my weaknesses
with nothing to distract me from my deepest thoughts and fears. My very being lay exposed and vulnerable. I am
not forced to be here. This has been a
gift. A really uncomfortable one.
 |
| Sweet Love |
I have found some comfort in the mission’s work we are
doing. I thought I was coming to help
the ingenious people but surprisingly, they have helped me. Their courage to endure harsh living is
humbling. With every smile they share, I
am encouraged. These people still smile
in the midst of barren and broken down shacks, feces and urine filled swamps, ankle
deep muddy paths that try to claim my shoes and are also filled with human waste. They cook by open fire. Wash their clothes in the contaminated waters
and have limited filtered water. They
have Cayucos (canoes) for transportation.
The nearest village is about an hour or two by boat and is a physically
challenging paddle. Thank you Ngobe
Tribe for your smile.
Thank you God for taking my eyes off myself. Thank you God for bringing me to these people to restore my humility and hope.
For now, I close with this.
I have no regrets for what I endure.
I count it an honor and a privilege.
I trust my Father who has called me to this very season because He loves
me more than anyone can ever love me.
Even though I only see a glimmer of the transformations in me, I know
that it is for the immeasurable glory of my future in His service for His
people of Hawaii and the Nations.
