To Our Friends Here: An Announcement About Changing Leadership

road to the mountains

The A Life Overseas community began over two years ago; it was an idea birthed from two moms who had found their voices via their own blogs, written from the Bolivian countryside and the Asian jungle. We wanted to launch an online community where authentic conversations, honest experiences, and spiritual encouragement could be shared around a common table. The unique thing about this virtual dinner party? Most of those gathered would be hacking it out overseas– this brave, varied, transitional tribe that uniquely understands transitioning in airports and reaching across cultures and raising kids on foreign soils.

Essentially, this blog collaborative was founded on the notion that there needed to be a space for things to be said, that were not being said. We foresaw a global change shaking the ex-patriot and missionary communities and we felt a need to create a place to come together and talk about what was happening. We are so very grateful that so many others heard the rumblings and decided to jump in for the ride. Writers, readers, and commenters came together. We talked. We reasoned. We disagreed. We prayed. We were challenged to think. We were challenged to ask the hard questions.

Over 7,000 comments, 375 posts and nearly one million views later, the conversations around this global table are still growing strong. We’ve been deeply encouraged by the posts and comments and real community that has taken place in this space — both here at the blog and in the Facebook community, as well. We’ve been honored to rub shoulders with so many phenomenal writers who have lent their leadership and experience here, and we’ve been both inspired and challenged by the stories, questions and authentic struggles shared by our readers.

But, like with all things, new seasons bring new paths. This, those of us here understand all too well. And after much prayer and time, we (Angie and Laura) are stepping away from official leadership of the A Life Overseas community. We simply don’t have the time it needs, and feel the Spirit tugging us both to create more margin in our personal lives. Of course, we’ll still pop in on Facebook and with occasional posts (we won’t disappear, promise!), but moving forward a brilliant leadership team will continue to foster the community here. Most of the writers we’ve all grown to love will remain, and the new leadership team will consist of Marilyn Gardner as Chief Editor, Elizabeth Trotter as Content/Guest Post Editor, Andy Bruner as our IT Specialist, and Jonathan Trotter as Community Consultant.  We are both thankful and excited for their leadership and service to this community here — both in the past and moving forward. We want you to know that we are not at odds with anyone on the team (not at all!); it’s just time for both of us to move in other directions.

Our hands might be passing the baton, but they’re also applauding already what is to come.

Thanks, friends from all corners of the world, for gathering at this table and letting us share a bit of your journey in courageous, out-of-the-box Christ-following. We’ve been honored.

Peace,

Angie Washington and Laura Parker

A Blessing To Our Friends, Engaging in A Life Overseas

For all the people who live suspended between cultural tensions, grace be to you.

Grace for the good days when you can check even just one thing off that to do list, and that’s a colossal “enough”. Grace for the hard days when the overwhelming reality of hardships all around you and inside of you would like to crush your every last hope. Grace for the boring days when nothing is happening, nothing is expected to happen any time soon, and you have to just get through another long day of nothing. Grace, too, for those rare yet spectacular days full of the miraculous wonder of dreams come true, fun adventures, and the deep connection with the people around you so you don’t feel so very foreign anymore.

For all you who Get It. Thank you.

Thank you for not settling. Thank you for going out to see the answer to what if?

Thank you for daring to open yourself up to the unknown. Thank you for laying your hero’s cape at the feet of the least of these.

You have not gone unnoticed.

We see you. We see you questioning the way it’s always been done. We see you stepping beyond the gender box. We see you carrying bone crushing weighty matters with humility and a quiet plod. Continue on in your “long obedience in the same direction,” friends. Keep abiding in the only vine that will ever cause you to really bear fruit, and please know that you are not, ever, alone.

*******

Keep reading. Keep commenting. Keep sharing about the cutting edge relevant matters that make this life overseas, somehow, work. As you were.

 

Read Angie’s Posts at A Life Overseas   |   Read Laura’s Posts at A Life Overseas

I Can’t Handle This

The barista brought us our fru-fru coffee all decorated and foamy. I would be leaving Bolivia in a couple days and my friend wanted to spend some time with me. She and I had history. You get connected to someone when you’re climbing a mountain (literally) with them.

I went to Bolivia with mountain moving faith. 13 years passed. Then in one of the darkest valleys I have ever known the decision to leave was made.

In my raw state I was in no mood for a friendly chat. I barely had enough energy to be seen in public. Her face emanated pity. When she said the next thing to console me I might have been sharp and slightly embittered.

“God won’t give you more than you can handle,” she said with a sincere smile on her face.

I stared and shook my head. I knew it wasn’t true. I cared enough for this dear friend that I wanted her to see me, hear me.

“Where’s that verse found?” I asked.

“Oh, I am not sure. I don’t know. I will have to look it up. But I know it’s there,” she said.

“That’s not a verse in the bible,” I said with a flat voice.

She insisted. I resisted.

“Let me explain it this way,” I began, “If that verse existed then it would mean that I don’t need God. If He is only going to give me what I can handle on my own then I have no need of Him.”

She stood by her belief. I would expect nothing less of her. The conversation veered to children, church, and other things. We ended the encounter with sweet embraces, kisses, true sentiments spoken with eyes and hearts locked. She is precious to me.

But I still don’t think that is a verse in the bible.

These last few years have brought more doubt than I care to admit. I doubted myself. I knew that if what I was going through was given to me by God then He hadn’t read that verse, because I could not handle what was going on.

I broke. That’s not “handling” it. That’s breaking.

I went to look it up and see if it really was in the Bible. Where do I go to find the verse? Google of course. Here’s a screen shot of what popped:

god give handle

Apparently the Interwebs have some mixed feelings about this cliche too. I especially appreciate the sentiment in the lower left hand corner. Yeah. That.

Where was I going with this? Oh yes. The bible. Eventually I did land in the silky paper pages of my bible at the infamous verse:

“The temptations in your life are no different from what others experience. And God is faithful. He will not allow the temptation to be more than you can stand. When you are tempted, he will show you a way out so that you can endure.”  1 Corinthians 10:13  (NLT)

Evil and badness try to get at us all the time. Those Corinthians were some seedy folk and had some huge temptations to face. When I hear temptation my mind goes to one word: sin. The verse talks about the choice to take a breath and look around for a different way rather than to directly follow the path of sin. When we are tempted to sin we can find a way not to. That’s God’s faithfulness.

He’s not lumping  a heap of hardship on me just so He can tell me to go handle it.

He does burden us, though. Listen:

“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” Matthew 11:28-30 (MSG)

Are you tired? Yes. Tired of trying. Tired of faking it. Tired of suffering silently.

Worn out? Um, yes. Worn out from running too hard with no rest. Worn out from allowing people to use me.

Burned out on religion? Amen. The formulas weren’t working.

Come to me. Get away with me … I did not think this would be a literal get away.  Leave the mission field? Never, God! Move back to the States? That would be like a prison sentence! I said these things out loud on numerous occasions.

Now I’m sitting in my home in suburbia, U.S.A. There’s a minivan parked in the two car garage. I’m about to go to work at my part-time job that helps pay the bills. This move is not a furlough. It’s indefinite. What just happened?!?!

Most people have been extremely kind to us through this transition. The one person that has been the hardest on me is: myself. Yep. But I am learning.

I am learning the unforced rhythms of grace. To walk and work with Jesus, to keep company with Him. Even when that means ending my missionary life overseas.

I’d like to tie this article up with a nice neat bow of practical steps or keen advice. Can’t. Won’t.

Maybe we can sit a bit and let it be okay to say, “I can’t handle it.” No cliches. No quick fixes. And then just wait and see what happens when we are honest with God… honest with ourselves.

Real Housewives of Cochabamba

In Americana pop culture annals our time in history will be marked by the exposé-esque entertainment of: the reality tv show. Amidst the hundreds of shows about “real” people doing “real” stuff you will find a group with the prefix ‘Real Housewives of…”. We have a little joke in the missionary wife community here in my city that when we tell our crazy stories they would be great episodes of the fictitious tv series ‘Real Housewives of Cochabamba’. Granted, I have never seen an episode of any Housewives shows, I can only refer to the cliché. No, all that drama is not my style; I have enough personal drama.

Confession: I love the reality tv show Survivor. Oh the joy of being able to vote people off the island… whoops, too judgey? You’ve never wanted to kick out a few tribe members? It’s only a game, folks! Okay, okay. Yes, we love everybody because Jesus loves everybody. Yes. Sometimes, though, I just love people at a distance. You know what I mean?

About clichés, I feel I must clarify lest anyone get the wrong impression about the reference to the Housewives of Cochabamba in this here article. Sadly, the term Housewife in some contexts carries a derogatory slur towards a married woman as a lazy lady who sits around the house eating bon-bons all day “just” taking care of her home. Nuh-uh! Not these ladies! Also, the cliché of the Housewives tv show franchise insinuates jobless women who are shallow, vapid, materialistic, bored gossips. No way! This is not the case in my town!

The toil of living in a foreign land is anything but those clichés. Any wife living outside their passport country works hard, even if she has no title beyond housewife. Some days just getting food can be an arduous task.

Our joke refers to the shared nature of the absurd drama these shows portray and the craziness we encounter just living our daily lives.

Real Housewives of Cochabamba

My friend went to the shoe stand in the market of hundreds of stands and thousands of shoes. She picked up a few sandals she liked. The lady at the stand said, “Pick your favorite one.” So she chose. She tried it on and didn’t like it that much so asked to try on another pair. The vender said, “No. I told you to pick your favorite one. You picked one. That is the only one.

Another friend went to a local beauty parlor to get a manicure and a pedicure. The manicure went fine. Then came the petrifying pedicure. The gal brought out a cheese grater and a razor in order to work off the calluses. Ouch!

I got my long hair cut to a short style. The stylist tied it back with a rubber band before she chopped off the chunk of straight golden strands. The other stylist saw what she had done. She asked if she could have my hair that had just been cut. I let her take it. Next thing I know she is pinning the dismembered ponytail to the tuft of black hair at the nape of her own neck. She spent the rest of the time I was in the busy salon flipping and flaunting her new blond hair for all to see.

How about that time we went to the movies and wanted to buy popcorn? The movie had already started so they told us at the counter, “We can’t sell you this popcorn because it is to sell to the people who come for the next movie.”

Or the one with the fries? My friend only wanted fries. The place didn’t sell just fries. “Okay, so what if I pay you full price for the meal but you don’t give me the chicken, you only give me the fries?” Answer was, “No, you must take your chicken.

Or the time with the apples? Friends were not allowed to purchase all the apples at the stand, as they had requested, in the event that some other people would come by who also wanted to buy apples.

I am sure an anthropologist or social sciences genius could explain to me the undercurrents of logical reasoning below the surface of each of these encounters. These are moments of culture shock between people from different backgrounds with different value systems. Analysis would bring enlightenment. Blah, blah, blah. But at the moment? Hilariousness!

Shoes, beauty parlors, nail salons, movie snacks, and other funny food fumbles make up a sizable chunk of our lives. Not every second is spent visiting the homeless, sharing the gospel message at bible study, or wiping the snot off the precious little noses of orphans. As they say in these here parts, our halo is a little crooked on our horns. Meaning, not every moments is brimming with holiness and celestial good works. We live our lives, and sometimes they get a little crazy.

Maybe we should work on a pitch to some Hollywood producer. People would watch this stuff; I’m tellin’ ya’, they really would. Nah. Now that I think about it, I don’t want a camera crew following me around all day. Although, it would be great publicity for the ministries, right? Nope. Just no.

I want to hear your crazy stories of the Real Housewives of _________ (your city). Make me laugh. I need to laugh. We all need to laugh.

*The photo for our fictitious tv show logo was taken at this year’s Christmas party. Love these ladies!

*The Real Housewives trademark is copyrighted and does not belong to me. Duh. {smile} Okaythanksbye.

Debriefing Resources

Debriefing

Thanks to the facebook followers of our A Life Overseas page we have a list of debriefing resource links. Please share any resources you have found helpful. We would love to bulk up the list with resources around the globe.

Other names for debriefing include: home assignment, re-entry counseling, member care, and processing for repatriation.

Christian Training Center International at The Inn (Franklin, North Carolina, USA)

Life Impact (various locations around the world)

Link Care Center (various locations around the world)

Mission Training International (Palmer Lake, Colorado, USA)

Missionary Health Institute (Toronto, Ontario, Canada)

The Rest Initiative (Maitland, Florida, USA)

TEAM (various locations around the world)

Thrive, empowering global women (various locations around the world)

TRAIN International (Joplin, Missouri, USA)

The Well Member Care Center (Chiang Mai, Thailand)

ONLINE:

Member Care Radio

Expatriate Connection

BOOKS:

Re-entry: Making the Transition from Missions to Life at Home” by: Peter Jordan

Transitions: Making Sense of Life’s Changes” by: William Bridges

Trauma and Resilience” by: Schaefer and Schaefer

As Soon As I Fell: A Memoir” by: Kay Bruner

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As stated up top, if you have links to resources that could help in the area of debriefing, counseling for repatriation or re-entry, member care, processing for home assignment, or other related needs those living overseas might have, please share.  Thanks! Be well and take care, my friends.

Devil Dance

Halloween. Day of the Dead. All Saints Day. This week we observe the earthly and underworld of the spiritual realm. As I regale you with tales of Bolivia, rife with ancient connections to the other-world, consider the spirituality embedded in your dwelling place. Let us begin.

The Devil’s Uncle

I’ve visited Potosí in the mountains of Bolivia a few times. It claims the title of populated city with the highest altitude in the world at 4,100 meters (13,451 feet), a high place. It used to be filthy rich. Conquistadores stripped their silver mines bare then raped and pillaged the land. The duress of depressing poverty left only meager spelunking tours and an ominous statue of the Devil’s Uncle in every cave.

Residents visit the caves regularly to sprinkle on the statues coca leaves, cigarettes and other items to appease the bad tempered spirit. Nicknamed Tío his visage takes many forms prominently displayed throughout the shrunken city. The ignorance of the rage of the Tío is told to have led to the atrocious devastation Potosí suffered. The fear of his punishment grips the hearts of many Bolivians.

Some PG images in this music video filmed in Bolivia, shared solely for cultural context:

Devil Dance

A dispute caused by the actions of a Peruvian pageant contestant had leaders claiming that the ‘Devil Dance’ belongs to Bolivia alone. Called the ‘Diablada’ in Spanish, the dance interprets the fight between good (the arc angel) and evil (the Devil and the seven deadly sins). The dramatic costumes, flailing arms, and vigorous jumping dance steps leave a deep impression on the onlookers. Centuries ago Jesuit choreographers intended to send a clear message to the tribal people of the land that would one day become: Perú, Bolivia, and Chile.

This dance is kept alive as a devout remembrance of the powers in Bolivia. Many believe that to allow this brazen display of syncretism to be extinguished would signal the downfall of the nation.

devil dance

Blessings and Curses

One lady said to me, “I am a Christian, not a Catholic. Though, I do think it is important we observe cultural traditions so that our children can proudly carry on the Bolivian culture to the next generation.” She said this to explain why she practices the first Friday of the month ritual called the Q’owa during which elements are burned so as to fill the house or establishment with a smoke of blessing. The elements include coca leaves, tiny sugar statues, and dried animal fetus.

During this purification ritual one procures blessings from the Pachamama to ward off curses of all sorts, according to their practitioners.

Spiritual Warfare

These are only three examples of spiritual engagement in Bolivia: burnt animal sacrifices to the Pachamama, dances displaying deep seated beliefs of powerful principalities, and gifts laid before the Devil’s Uncle by people cowering in caves. I could go on. I imagine you, too, could share about the spiritual practices of the people of your nation.

Related articles:

Participating in the religious ceremonies of other faith traditions
This I Used To Believe
Can Nations Change?
Voice of the National ~ an uncomfortable conversation

Since the start of this blog collaborative people have requested articles on the topic of ‘Spiritual Warfare’. Due to the beautiful diversity of denominational and theological beliefs represented in our global readership we the editors have requested the team of writers avoid attempts to indoctrinate or persuade, thereby excluding people. Rather, we present what we believe and invite people to respectful conversations in hopes to promote encouragement and growth.

Coca: Repurpose or Eradicate

Bolivia’s top export is coca leaves. It happens to be the main raw ingredient of cocaine, though it does have many other uses. Some believe that eradication is the only solution for the evils produced by drug lords. Others are convinced that the crops can be repurposed for harmless uses.

Might these be two different approaches to the spiritual practices of the nations we serve?

We can enter with the belief we are called to eradicate evil and any evidence it ever existed. Like in Chile where the 31st of October is not Halloween but legally observed as the national holiday: The Day of Evangelical Churches and Protestants.

Or we can take the approach of repurposing, or redeeming, the spiritual practices. The famed story of the Peace Child shows us a missionary who saw the story of Christ in the practices of the tribes who would offer a child to establish peace. Salvation came to the people through the message of this tradition.

Ghost Stories

Under the influence of the oppression of evil spirits in your life and the lives of the people of your nation, what works? Let’s talk about it. Share your stories of liberation from the hand of the enemy. Share the practices which brought freedom.

photo credit: Bolivia Travel Site

Parasites and Paperwork

When it feels as though parasites have taken up permanent residency just know... this too shall pass.
When it feels as though parasites have taken up permanent residency just know… this too shall pass.

These two topics arise during the conversation at almost every gathering of foreigners: parasites and paperwork. They hold the same high level of disdain and elicit low begrudged groans.

Parasites

How many times have parasites, amoebas, or other unfriendly bugs assaulted you? How many of those nasty sicknesses can you tick on a list? Does your nearest pharmacy carry over-the-counter drugs that raise a few eyebrows?

When one of my daughters was three I went in to her room as she was waking up from her afternoon nap. Stretched out beside her on the mattress I found a worm as thick as my finger and as long as her arm. The doctor was pleased that she passed it while she slept and declared the occurrence, “Completely normal.” Yeah, right! Completely normal that an alien would implant itself in the bowels of my child, feed upon her sustenance, grow to an unearthly size and then wriggle out in an attempt to dominate our species with it’s evil machinations!

My child survived and is now a teenager; which we all know is a very special kind of alien being. We’re gonna let her stay, though, because she’s a cute and cuddly alien, not a slimy, wormy one.

Paperwork

Standing in line at the immigration office for hours and hours can really leave you feeling like an alien.
Standing in line at the immigration office for hours and hours can really leave you feeling like an alien.

First trip to pick up the reissued birth certificate: misspelled name. Resubmit. Second trip, same document: transposed numbers. Resubmit. Third trip: wrong last name. Resubmit and get reinforcements. Lawyer sets up special pick up time from a specific window at a specific time of day. I cringe, fully aware that the crowd of hundreds will perceive this line hop as preferential treatment. In the face of injustice the natives get restless.

After a few deep breaths at the back of the room I fix my eyes on the designated window. My heart beats faster as I take in the mass of people I will have to squeeze through to get to the front. I duck my head down and find pockets of space to reach my destination along the zig-zag path of  least resistance. Hope surges as I make it up to the final group of waiters. “Waiters” in that they have been waiting the longest, probably since before daybreak, for hours, to be attended. I remind myself I paid my dues and waited along with them three times. They don’t know that, but it gives me the courage to make that last push and dash up to the window.

I spit out the name of the person I need to see and the tired government worker disappears to a back room. A stealthy glance to my right reveals a sight of terror. One of the waiters broke rank! Her stocky frame barrels at me with amazing speed. I rehearse my rebuttal and apologies in Spanish in my mind. I don’t have time to say anything before I feel her pudgy elbow make full contact with my ribcage. She slams me against the window and begins to rant. The angry mob behind her all raise their voices in accusatory chants of expulsion. I feel a hand close around my arm. The person I have an appointment with grabs me through a small opening of the door. She shouts something back to the crowd. Then she shuts the door fast and leads my stunned being back to her little office closet.

Files stacked high on the tiny desk spill out onto the tiled floor. Happy ending to the story: I retrieved my kid’s perfectly correct birth certificate, in triplicate.

The trails of paperwork never end. Never. I bet you could tell me about some kind of paperwork you just finished, are in the middle of, or will soon be doing. It never ends.

Prayer

So here is my prayer for all those suffering under the weight of paperwork or parasites.

“May your lines be short and your patience long.

May you rejoice in the moments of health and know that in the moments of sickness this too shall pass… literally.

Or you’ll vomit and then you might feel better. Or you might not feel better but at least you might lose a few pounds.

May you have the gift of tongues to interpret the medical jargon on the very strong medications.

May you interpret, as well, the official wording on forms, visas, signs, documents, contracts, etc.

When the parasites come crawling and the paperwork keeps trailing may you be surrounded by people of compassion and be filled with perseverance that pushes through to find some kind of humor in it all.

Amen.”

Let’s have it. I want to hear your grossest, your most tedious, and maybe, if you can manage it, your most humorous story about parasites or paperwork. And while we’re at it why don’t we all go ahead and wash our hands just one more time, okay? Thanks!

Peace.

Image credit: Special thanks to the movie makers of ‘Men in Black’

A Thousand Tongues

Think of all the languages in the world. Each language captures a unique concept of life separate from all other tongues. The words connected to ideas like family, soul, eternity, intelligence, and even something as simple as meal communicate vast varieties of images and knowledge. These myriad sounds combined in just the right way also convey facets of truth only grasped by those with the ability to process the specific pronunciation produced by the air flowing from the throats of the speakers of that language.

Now, multiply those facets of truth by the thousands of languages alive in the world. Truth, then, in all its facets, exceeds our singular abilities to conceive it in its complete entirety.

God communicates in every language. He is a God of a thousand tongues, and more. He connects with speakers of Arabic and American Sign Language. He delights in the praise sung by silent Koreans and cacophonous Kenyans alike. The prayers of Urdu, Yue, and Aymara reverberate with equal clarity in the ears of our ever attentive, omnipresent, Jehovah Shammah.

Enough

If I can only relate with God in one, maybe two, languages with authenticity and earnest this means I only know the truth of God’s character as revealed in those few tongues. I must concede that I know very little of my God, then, since He is more than capable of communicating with deft proficiency in thousands of tongues. His fluency in the truth of thousands of tongues speaks to the unfathomable depth of His character, the expansive width of His capabilities, and the immense height of His empathic compassion.

He is present

Yet, I know Him. He knows me. The sliver of His being He allows me to know through my limited abilities of relating with another being, is enough. To know that all I have come to know and will ever know is enough, yet that it is infinitesimal in comparison to all who He is, speaks volumes to divine sovereignty.

With supreme wisdom He allows us to set up our strategies, our denominations, and our constructs. And He is present. He permits us to do what we perceive to be appropriate. And He is present. He watches us make moves, take steps, connect with people as our conviction drives us. And He is present. He walks alongside us, arm in arm, as a dear friend.

Who am I to dare try to fit Him into my limited perception? Who am I to exclude any one of His dearly beloved speakers of the thousands of tongues? Who am I to declare my hate as holy, my indignant prejudice as righteous, or my nit-picking as justified?

Sides

The only side God takes is love. He doesn’t draw battle lines and stand in one camp. He doesn’t pick players for His team and leave the rejects as His opponents. He loves every person on every side we humans devise. He loves every person of all the thousands of tongues alive on all lands.

One of my Bolivian friends and I chatted about a little get-together I hosted in my home. The ladies who came for coffee had only one thing in common: we were foreigners. My Bolivian friend asked, “What’s the difference between you all? I know you are missionaries, but I don’t think you are with the same organization? So what do each of you believe?”

I told her, “Usually when we get together we speak about culture stuff, parenting, and whatever is going on in our every day lives. We rarely speak about theology or religion. Sometimes we talk about the social aid aspects of our different projects, but we have an unspoken agreement to not bring up the topic of what we believe. We assume everyone at the table loves God and loves people – and that seems to be enough for us.”

This deliberate avoidance of conversations regarding the lines that might divide us creates a safe space. The defenses come down and inclusion defines us. We acknowledge that passionate commitment to our causes exists. Instead of trying to convert one another based on our various convictions, we accept the differences and lean in with love.

wall of doors

Fluency

Please allow your heart expand with the vastness of all who God is in your life. Know that you are His beloved.

May the love of the Speaker of a thousand tongues be the language of fluency we possess.

The Ignorant Bliss of a Know-It-All

When we stomped off to mission school we knew we were headed to Bolivia. We knew the five-fold reach of our ministry would be: churches, bible schools, social outreaches, Bolivian missionaries sent out, and mass media productions. Our shiny vision statement listed everything in plural with big numbers. We knew that we knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, as they say, what our next few decades, heck, what the rest of our lives looked like.

Or so I thought.

The Ignorant Bliss of a Know It All darkened valley.docx

This November 1st marks 13 years in Bolivia. So much has changed in that relatively short span of time. I miss the ignorant bliss of being a know-it-all.

Right now as I walk through the valley-of-the-shadow one of the few certainties I have is the shadow of doubt.

See if you can identify a pattern as I share some of our journey.

We were pastors of a local church for 8 years. We are no longer the pastors.

From that church Bolivian missionaries have been sent out. The congregation is still connected to these sacrificial souls, yet we are not directly involved.

We ran a bible school program for over a decade during which time we helped start over 60 training centers throughout South America. We no longer oversee that program.

We led a series of leadership conferences attended by thousands throughout Bolivia and South America over the span of 12 years. We no longer do that.

We authored, translated, and published a number of books and biblical teaching material. We also made available online resources. We discontinued our production department.

Three things have survived the start-stop process that characterizes our efforts.

We founded an orphanage that has helped over 50 kids in the last 8 years. Fourteen kids still live in the House of Dreams. We decided to not accept new children.

We started a K-12 Christian school six years ago. Over 100 kids, the orphans and ours included, receive bi-lingual education from a Bolivian staff.

We purchased the town’s only bowling alley a few years back in hopes to create sustainability within Bolivia. We still hope to see positive results.

In some of the examples above the transition meant Bolivians now lead the operations. In other cases the programs simply stopped.  We were able to check off all five things we set out to do from the start. We should be ecstatic!

So why do I feel like crap? Why do I battle depression? Why does doubt feel like a noose around my soul’s throat?

The trade off was too big. Home life is strained. Our finances suffer under huge debt. Relationships have become difficult. I could go on with the list of stressful situations we face; I’ll leave the rest for my skype call counseling sessions.

The ancient story of the Hebrews who clamored for a king haunts my heart. They thought they asked for a good thing. Finally, God answered their prayers in the affirmative. He gives them a king, even though He knows they will be sorry. He knows the oppression they invite when they transfer the rule to human hands.

This shadow of doubt that hangs over my head tells me history repeats itself. Why should I think I would have been any wiser than those folks back then? I truly thought I asked God for a handful of really great stuff. He answered our prayers in the affirmative. Did He know we would be sorry?

King David wrote the psalm I have alluded to with my talk of shadows. Maybe if you are alongside me in a dark, shadowy time we might be comforted as we contemplate the truth of these words.

…though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for You are with me…
(Psalm 23:4)

Another scriptural reference to shadows speaks of an unexpected source of darkness.

This deconstruction has been a long, painful unclenching of the fists of control. Surrender thumps as a mandate, a warning of worse if not heeded. So maybe this shadow of death and doubt, as I relinquish and mourn the loss of these good works, comes not from the evil one. Or if it does, there may be a greater Good overshadowing the immediate struggles.

David as king was not God’s original plan, but He worked with it. Listen to the words of this warrior poet about a trustworthy shadow.

“David, when he fled from Saul into the cave: Be merciful to me, O God, be merciful to me! For my soul trusts in You; And in the shadow of Your wings I will make my refuge, Until these calamities have passed by.” (Psalm 57:1)

More verses about the Almighty’s shadow: Psalm 17:8 , Psalm 36:7, Psalm 63:7, Psalm 91:1

So darkness closes in and I can’t see the path. I walk slow and unsure, weary and wary. Maybe you are right here beside me, unseen but within ear-shot. This is me calling out to you. I extend to you solidarity in the hurt.

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Are you going through a similar season in your life? Have you had to live through relinquishment and loss? In the interest of conversation please add your thoughts below in the comment section.

Cultural Immersion Checklist

How many can you check? Congratulate yourself for where you are at!

To Do List Compilation
(just a few funny lists for laughs)

1. Attempt to learn the local language
2. Take public transportation
3. Buy food where the majority buys their food
4. Attend a typical wedding
5. Attend a typical funeral
6. Attend a typical birthday party
7. Visit a government office
8. Acquire the services of someone to repair something
9. Eat at the house of a local
10. Host a meal for a local in your own residence
11. Participate in the festivities of a local holiday
12. Dress like a local
13. Learn the local greeting
14. Prepare a local dish
15. Understand a local joke
16. Able to understand directions to some place
17. Able to give directions to a place
18. Experience shock… and work through it
19. Understand all the lyrics to a song in the local language
20. Able to verify you have been given correct change

10 BONUS POINTS!!!

21. Eat something you’ve never eaten before in ANY form (a chicken’s foot or ants, for example) –  LynnAnn Murphy

22. Read the local newspaper in its entirety –  LynnAnn Murphy

23. Participate in recreation with the natives (soccer leagues, pickup basketball, chess club, etc) –  Jeff Wright

24. Know and use national products instead of relying on imports from home country –  Jeff Wright

25. Adapt to the local climate or participate in local seasonal activities (the spring clean, learn to walk on ice, or plant your garden) –  Stuart Mattinson

26. Able to acquire emergency services –  Kimberly Wilcox Myers

27. Have a discussion about something abstract –  Kimberly Wilcox Myers

28. Acquire a drivers license and DRIVE like the locals! –  Shari Tvrdik

29. Sit with nationals and hear, in the local language, their stories of language mistakes that overseas workers have made –  Marilyn Gardner

30. For the sake of being a good guest, eat something you are certain will make you rather ill  – Breanna Randall

This fun list was originally posted to the facebook community page. If you haven’t yet liked the page you can do so at this link:  https://www.facebook.com/ALifeOverseas   Thank you so much to all the people who added their “bonus points”.

Do you have anything to add to our cultural assimilation collection? Also, if you have an amusing cultural assimilation anecdote you would like to share in the comments please feel free to do so.

On behalf of the editorial and writing team of A Life Overseas please allow me to extend to you a virtual pat on the back and a sincere applause for stepping out and immersing yourself in a foreign culture.  Adaptation has its ups and downs. You are amazing! Be glad for how far you have come and know you are not alone in this journey.

Peace.

Bribery, Piracy and Police Fundraisers

One meets road blocks on our highways. A driver stops and the man by the shack saunters out with a huge rifle perched on his hip. He glances over the vehicle and says with tired bluntness and a slight curve of a grin, “The time has come for you to pay me.” He receives the bills and lifts the branch tied to a rope so the driver can pass.

How do you feel about bribery?

For a business to operate legally in our town the owners pay taxes. Receipts are issued to clients to register transactions for tax purposes. Surprise inspectors stand outside shops and ask clients to show them their receipts. If proper receipts aren’t issued the business is closed until they comply with tax standards.

dvds

Countless shops sell pirated DVDs, CDs, and games. They operate legally and proudly display their tax registration compliance document on the wall, just as the law tells them they must.

What are your thoughts on piracy?

At the end of the year employees are paid an obligatory 13th month salary. During the month of December motorists choose odd routes so they can avoid strategic police traps. Dozens of officers on foot set up cones and stop drivers at busy thoroughfares. They confiscate motorcycles, write mountains of tickets, and look the other way when cold hard cash is slipped into their hands. Their efforts guarantee their 13th month bonus.

Do you have an opinion about authorities who take liberties?

The organization you work with may have strict policies about bribery, extortion, and other grey areas. Other foreign residents are left to find personal standards of operation.

The word ‘legal’ has many layers when you mix governments and religious belief systems. Conflicts arise when traditions of dress, diet, and holidays demand a choice. When “tipping” an official to do their job gets the paperwork through in days instead of months we are faced with the realities of cultural assimilation.

Push back against the traditional norms, and even the law, and you may face life and death implications. The moral divide for those who hid Jews during the Holocaust went beyond compliance with legal standards and called for people to invoke action against unconscionable terrorism.

How do you choose to draw the line in the land where you live?

Do you…

Cut corners? Bend the rules? Grease the wheels? Deal under the table? Justify the means by the end goal?

Or are you…

Straight-laced? A stickler? Dudley Do-right? A by-the-book type? An ‘i’ dotter and a ‘t’ crosser?

Feel free to share your stories and opinions in the comments below. 

A Turnip for the King

Two brothers lived in a kingdom long ago. One survived off the land as a poor farmer. The other was very rich.

While tending his crops one day the farmer noticed one of the turnips had grown huge. He pulled it from the ground and it filled a wheelbarrow. The idea occurred to him to present this unusually large turnip to the king as a gift. The king, touched by the generosity of the peasant, received the gift with gratitude. The king sent the poor farmer on his way with gold, treasure, and other fine gifts.

Upon hearing about how the king so greatly rewarded his subject for a mere vegetable, the other brother prepared a gift, too. He presented the king with thoroughbreds, special silks, and rare spices. The kind king told the wealthy man that he had only one thing to give him to match the rarity of the gifts he had presented. The king had the servants roll out the cart-sized turnip and gave it to the man.

The man had no choice but to receive the enormous turnip from the king.

turnip

In two recent books I read the authors recount this ancient tale. They used the principles to make their separate points. I am sure many variations of this same story can be found in a variety of cultures. One site attributes the Brothers Grimm (here).

Looking at the heart motives of the two brothers gave me pause to turn my eyes inward. I asked myself why I do the “good works” that I do. I wondered if I regarded my years of service as the wealthy brother did his gifts for the king.

Do I feel as though God owes me something?

Am I attempting to purchase the favor of God?

Could my jealousy or greed be dirtying the efforts I have set my hand to?

We read in Isaiah a description of the works we consider righteous:

When we display our righteous deeds, they are nothing but filthy rags.

The the Apostle Paul tells the Romans:

Don’t think you are better than you really are. Be honest in your evaluation of yourselves, measuring yourselves by the faith God has given us.

What would change in the way we do things if we considered every effort our hands produce as nothing more than a surprisingly large turnip? We could humbly come before the King and tell Him, “Hey, look, I was out there working and kind of by accident this great big crop grew out of the ground, and I just want you to have it.”

We live extreme and exotic lives overseas doing great and wonderful exploits. Be encouraged today that God is pleased with you. May our good works be the overflow from a heart of gratitude to our Lord. Peace.

[photo credit: cape cod life]

Cigarettes, Multiple Wives, and Loving Jesus

Imagine a man native to the region where you live. He gets Jesus. Grows. Starts a church. It flourishes. The dozens become hundreds. Your little missionary heart bursts with pride to see this man so successful. The church secretary and the volunteers overlook his hot temper and his prejudice towards people of a certain skin tone because, well, the church is growing, right?

Now, put a lit cigarette in that pastor’s hand while he preaches on Sunday morning. He takes a few drags and taps off the ash in an ashtray on the pulpit. He lights up a couple more before the final benediction. How many elders, do you think, would have his butt and the butts in that ashtray kicked to the curb before the sun when down on that holy Sunday?

Do I endorse smoking? Not so much. But I also don’t endorse racism.

Which one gets overlooked and which one gets condemned?

A Subculture

Issues like smoking, alcohol, styles of dress, entertainment choices, and language define and divide. These things can keep us apart from the very people we would hope to help. They cause church splits and drive wedges in mission organizations.  They hold some people out of relationship with God and bind others in a fake one.

“Jesus consistently focused on people’s center: Are they oriented and moving toward the center of spiritual life (love of God and people), or are the moving away from it? … Jesus could say that the “tax collectors and the prostitutes” who were a million miles away from the religious subculture, but who had turned, converted, and oriented themselves towards God and love, were already in the kingdom. … The “righteous” were more damaged by their righteousness than the sinners by their sin.” – John Ortberg

Bridge

Barriers and Bridges

Am I no longer a Christian because I occasionally have a beer or a glass of wine? Have I lost the faith because I consult with a counselor instead of only relying on the bible and prayer to solve problems? Does the tattoo inked on my arm separate me from the favor of God?

barrierIt may be time to redirect our energies. We can construct, reinforce, and repair our structures only to find we built a barrier instead of a bridge. We defend the standards we erect. We stay inside those high walls, unable to reach out to the people.  Then comes the sad part; others cannot get in because they lack the tricks to traverse its enormity.

Might we utilize our creativity and resources to construct bridges instead? Could we assure instead of shun? Can we accept rather than inspect?

Your Stance

Look down at your feet. Where do you stand? On a barrier or a bridge? The great thing about feet is that they move. We can modify our direction by an awareness of our motivations.

Would you support a national pastor who led well and loved Jesus, if he regularly smoked?

How about if he had tattoos? Or multiple wives? What sub-cultural barriers have we constructed, unwittingly or consciously, which may push people away from Christ? Or worse, keep us away from people?

 – Angie Washington, missionary living in Bolivia, South America

blog: angiewashington.com twitter: @atangie  facebook: atangie