Keeping it real

(Apologizing in advance: this may seem like something of a rant or emotional drivel. Not intended to be…just honest thoughts that the Lord is working out in my mind and heart. Not funny or eloquently written.)

Fridays are my refocusing day. The other four mornings of the work-week I force myself to get up early so that I can run and exercise (didn’t used to look at running like a chore…), but Friday I sleep in a little later, then wake up and read and pray. Usually by Friday, I need a healthy dose of refocusing and reflection. [I needed this in Utah too, but my schedule wasn’t as conducive to setting a morning each week, which is sad because I think it would have really benefitted me.] Some Fridays I tell myself, “It’s ok buddy, just hang in there, the weekend is coming.” Some Fridays I’m a little bit harder on myself, making lists of things that I need to get done and mistakes I need to be careful to avoid.

I realized as I was surveying the list of blog titles I’ve written that most of what I have written is informative and focuses on the funny things here in Coco. And those aren’t exaggerations because trust me, there is lots of material (and I’m generating more all the time—there is a reason that certain friends of mine know me as Captain Awkward). But life isn’t all just a barrel of laughs here, as much as I wish I could make it be. Things can be very hard here, and I don’t like focusing on the harder parts but not doing so paints a very 2-D image. And I always get worried that I will say things about the negative things and people will think, “Oh he is miserable” or try to have pity on me—and I really don’t want to be a pity-charity-case. Ironically, I’m writing this after having probably three of the best days in a row that I’ve had here.

Friday morning I woke up feeling pretty rested and ready to start my day. After my cold shower, I was brushing my teeth, and I began reflecting on the week, which in some ways had been a doosie. Things tend to come in waves here. I will be doing great for a few days; then I’ll have two really terrible days where I hate life here. Those are the days that I ask why I ever came and I think about going back. Those are the days that I mound up all the evidence of how I’m failing at what I’m doing here, and I think about how other people could probably have come and done better. But they pass and then I’ll be feeling pretty good again. And so naturally after thinking about all this, I felt like I was some kind of emotionally unstable person. So I did what I do best with those crazy emotions, I thought about them, dissected them, and wrapped them up in little, manageable pieces that seem easier to control. And then I made a list.

Culture shock. Sometimes I feel like I’m on Mars. And it is not the food, the different living environment, or the heat. It’s the people. I mean, sometimes I’m sure it is blue and they see orange. I’m sure this is how it should be with x,y,z, and they confidently write out c, b, a. Really? And unless I want to be some tyrannical jerk I have to play by their rules, which isn’t so fun when you realize you don’t have a handle on them. And I want to love them, I want to serve them, and I really want to be their friend, but I feel like there is this enormous gulf that I’ll never be humble or loving enough to cross. And then someone does something that makes me think I’d rather swim back home through the Atlantic then to cross that gulf.

The language. This continues to be a thorn in my side. My French isn’t terrible (though sometimes I feel like I speak more Spanish and I really only know the phrase, “no hablo espanol”), but I can’t speak Bambara at all. It is most frustrating when I’m actually having a good conversation with somebody and I want to say something or ask a question and I fumble over verb tenses and vocabulary and end up sounding like a confused second-grader. I’ve been trying to study more. And I feel like I should be further along and that I should have put in more work before coming and that I should be studying more every evening. But frankly, sometimes I don’t have much of an evening, or I’m exhausted, or I’m called out for an emergency, or I’d rather read, talk with someone at home, or write something funny. And so in my head I give myself failing grades in language class and tell myself that I’ve been here for five weeks and I should be doing better.

My role in the hospital. I am feeling more and more confident about my role in the OR, though this was my first week on my own (since Isaac was on vacation), and I fumbled over some minor things (which of course meant that I had completely failed). But I’m still learning other things around the hospital and trying to wrap my head around the way things work. And I’ve been here for five weeks and I feel like I should have it all down, and I then I think the other people working at the hospital are disappointed that I haven’t caught on faster. And what I want most is to be helpful…to really make a difference and to be part of the effort here. But for now I’m still learning things, which can be painful. Like when I explain to one of the nurses here that I don’t know something about maternity or peds, and they ask me things like, “did you actually work as a nurse in the States?” Or better yet, when I’m working with a weaker member of the staff, trying to help them learn something, but not wanting to seem like some arrogant task master I try to get them to show me how they are doing things. This leaves them thinking that I’m a total idiot and that they have to train me. And by the fifth time they explain how to do a blood pressure, I’m ready to put the cuff on their neck and see if I can find their carotid blood pressure.

Friendships. Like I said, I want to make friends here and to love on people. I have several great friendships with people at the hospital, but I really want them to be deeper friendships, not just casual “work-friends.” So when I’m low, I think that I haven’t done nearly enough to bridge the gaps and that I haven’t put in enough effort in reaching out and getting out into the village to visit people.

Transition and adjustment. I finally let myself admit that both the transition from Utah and the adjustment here have been really hard…no, frankly, they’ve sucked. My friend Danielle (the most emotionally attune person I know) knows me as an emotional retard, meaning that it takes about 6 weeks for me to process something and actually let the emotions express themselves. So in the midst of all the adjustments the reality of packing up and leaving in less than 5 weeks came crashing down, and I’m still sorting some of that out. And then, to be truthful, my adjustment here hasn’t been easy, and I hate to admit that because I like to pretend that I’m some type of superman that learns quick and has infinite flexibility, but alas, I am not. The reality, though, is that I was under a lot of pressure to learn and be independent really quick, both at the hospital and in life here in general. And this wasn’t anybody’s fault and no one was trying to be mean about things, it was just what was needed. But I also have to be honest, it wasn’t the softest landing ever and I’m still dusting myself off a bit.

Calling, learning, and questions. So in additional to all the rest, this type of experience brings up all kinds of questions. Like, how do my personality, my gifts, and my passions fit into a context like this? Is this the kind of thing I could see myself doing for the rest of my life? And then there are the questions brought about by context. Is it wrong for me to live in a house with an air-conditioner when some of my friends don’t even have running water? Is that an unnecessary barrier to my ministry with them? And I really want to be open to learning these things, and hearing God’s voice and leading, and to listen to the advice and counsel of the veterans around here. These aren’t bad things, and I would be asking them even if my adjustment to life here was going as easy as imaginable. It is just that they get added to the mix of everything else going on inside of my heart and head.

By the time I was doing making this messy list in my head, I was dressed and heading for the kitchen. I grabbed a glass of water and my malaria medication and sat down at the kitchen table. My devotional reading that morning was Philippians 2. “Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus…” Humility. A huge transition and adjustment. Offering His very life. And I realized that my attitude and personality had not at all been that. In my all my flounders, I’ve been desperate to prove that I’m not an idiot, so I’ve been way too quick to share what I know. (Which just makes you look like a know-it-all idiot, huh?) And on the other side of all that, I’m way to eager to make people like me, so I become suffocating. I chuckled to myself about how silly it all was. Not that it wasn’t hard, but that I was reacting so extremely to it.

And I half sighed and half uttered as I exhaled, “I surrender.” I surrender. I give up my right to call things “fair” and “unfair.” I give up on the competition and the rat-race that says that I have to work hard to be the MOST successful. I give up on thinking I have to “win” friends.
And then I prayed one of those really dangerous prayers, “Lord, let me have your attitude. Let me have your humility.” (I learn humility the hard way, which is part of the reason I have so many funny stories. I hope this doesn’t mean I have to break more of Ed and Andrea’s stuff…)

Then something my friend Sarah said in a recent conversation came to mind. We were talking about transitions, calling, and loving people and communities. She closed the conversation with, “Jake, love unabashedly.”

Glanced down at my watch, realized I needed to get going. Took my cup to the sink and washed it out. Threw my wallet and phone in my bag, grabbed me helmet. I wheeled my moto out of the yard. I turned around to lock the gate, slipping my key in the lock. I paused, looked up, and prayed, “Lord, give me strength for today; let me judge myself by no other standard then living according to what You want from me, and let me love unabashedly.”