Saturday, November 9, 2013

Relying on my Jesus

I’m going to share a struggle here.  Don’t get too excited, it’s nothing horrible or heart-stopping.  But it took me a couple weeks to get a post written for two reasons: My darn pride doesn’t like it when I admit a struggle in an area that I have experience in (like travel), and I didn’t want to sound like an ungrateful complainer (I still don’t).  I decided this post needed to go up because of the rebuttals of those reasons: Though I fly a lot and have even been out of the country a few times, I am not the experienced world traveler that I’d like to be and I’m still challenged when I venture to new places, and I hope that hearing how Jesus helped me through will be encouraging to others, especially if they’re experiencing the same feelings.

I love living in Guatemala.  My host family is wonderful, Spanish is enjoyable, the other students are great, and it’s just one big adventure.  But most adventures come with some challenges, and late October held a challenging week for me.  I normally eat very healthfully at home, and my diet here is very different, and much more processed.  I’m a pretty messy person (my stuff seems to be alive. I open a suitcase or drawer and a bomb goes off and all my clothes run away and spread out all over the floor) but I like cleanliness.  That sounds totally contradictory, but what I mean is that I like my clothes to be spread out all over a clean floor, I don’t keep rotting food or dirty dishes lying around, and I like counters and surfaces to be sans crumbs, germs, and dust.  My room in Antigua always has dirt and fine gravel on the floor, mold living on one of the tables, and plenty of dust and spiders in the corners.  Finally, the going joke is that I have sangre dulce (sweet blood) because anytime I’m anywhere near any kind of biting bugs, I’m covered in bites.  Well, that’s no different here.

Normally all of those things don’t bother me—they’re part of the adventure.  But I guess I had just had too much.  The food was not sitting well with my body, I was covered in bug bites, and sneezing from the dust.  I missed America.

I had to make a choice.  Either I let these frustrations take over my attitude and complain to my friends, or I gave them to God.   I chose the latter, because this semester I’ve really been focusing on depending on Him one hundred percent—He’s the only one who’s completely constant and completely omnipotent, so why depend on anyone else?  I’m a verbal processor so I like to talk about everything that’s on my mind with my close friends (and anyone else who’ll listen).  This is fine and dandy, but God is the only one who can truly bring peace.  I just wrote that other post about peace and when I put Philippians 4:6-7 in there I realized how much that verse has been exemplified in my life this semester.

Here in Guatemala, I have no piano to play as an outlet.  I have no internet at my house to waste time on.  I don’t have my best friends from school that I’m used to confiding in.  And I have lots of free time.  When I came to Guat, I decided that I wanted to deepen my relationship with God and draw closer to Him in every area of my life.  I wanted to be fully reliant on Him.  I have been making an effort to bring every single request to God and let Him take care of it.  That verse in Philippians says not to be anxious, but to be thankful and in through prayer present everything to God, and we will receive profound peace.

Well, it’s true.

As I prayerfully pushed through the frustrations, instead of becoming grumpy and resenting my situation, God continued to refresh me and I was filled with thankfulness and patience.  The issues didn’t go away, but neither did God at my side.  It was humbling and interesting to wrestle with the unfamiliar feelings of frustration towards a new culture, and because I leaned on Jesus the whole process was much easier.

Postscript:

My friend Heather took some kind of cultural communications class last year and she informed me that the feelings I was experiencing are normal in a progression of phases that occur while living in a new culture, and she experienced them too when she lived in Cambodia for a summer.  The name of the stage I was in was resentment, though I did not resent Guatemala because I let God take the reins instead of my selfish heart.  The next stage is acceptance, and I am happy to say that I think I have passed into that one.  I’m back to being okay with my dusty floor and itchy, bumpy feet.  I am so thankful that I get to live here.  I still need Jesus desperately for patience and fulfillment, but that fact will never change :)

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