After a wonderful week away celebrating 30 years of marriage, I found myself sitting in a small plane getting ready to land on the dirt airstrip in our little community. Uncontrollable sighs. Stomach is churning. Holding onto my husband’s hand.
Anxious and fearful of being back in the place that has been my home for 2 years. My husband leaned into me and said, “It will be ok once you get back.”
It’s strange that I’m feeling anxious because I’m not facing the unknown or uncertainty like I did 2 years ago. I know exactly what is ahead of me, and maybe that’s why my body is responding and reacting this way. It is sending me the message that there is something ahead of me that is wrong.
I know there is potential danger but I don’t think that’s the cause of the anxiety. I know there is a lot of work to be done, but I don’t think that’s the cause of the anxiety.
I’ve spent the last week with the man I love with no agenda other than to be together. We have spent our time leisurely exploring our surroundings and have not spent any time thinking about our responsibilities to anybody else. It was pure bliss.
But now I’m back in this cross-cultural world where I’m living in tension. I face situations every day where I feel out of control. So I sit in the anxiety. I feel the feelings. I listen to my body. When I try to name the causes, I think of several options which all feed my emotions.
I can’t speak the language as well as I would like. When the women I interact with daily tell me about their lives, I miss so much of the context and the meaning because I don’t understand all of their words and I certainly don’t understand the culture. I feel defeated by my lack of language.
I know this is a community where a simple task like buying a tomato can result in incivility and jeers as I step into a world where I am different. I feel anger at women who would rather mock me than accept my money.
I have a to do list that on the face of it should be simple to complete. But every day I wake up to the same tasks. It is so difficult to make progress. At least progress in my eyes. I feel discouraged because I can’t cross out items on my list.
Then there’s the never ending sorrow as I listen to 29 year old women tell me they can’t feed their 7 children ranging in age from 6 months to 15 years. The material poverty is constant and the struggle to survive is real. As I sit and pray with them, I feel helpless because I can’t offer material relief.
When I mentally compile my list, I know those issues have been there almost from the beginning of my time living here. What is different now?
I think for the first time in two years, I feel it deep down in my bones, that I will always have those struggles. I will always face the hardship that is life here in my little community of Haiti. That is what my heart is feeling. My body is telling me that my struggle will always be here. It will never get better. It is hopeless.
So, now what?
If there is one thing God has taught me over the last 2 years, it is that He is faithful in the good and bad times. He is good in the good and bad times.
Hallelujah! Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good; His faithful love endures forever. Psalm 106:1
This not a cliché to me. This is the truth that I proclaim to myself when my heart is telling me otherwise. And as I sit in this truth, I allow the words to soak in and I wait for my heart to know and feel what my head already does. God is good.