Culture Shock Times2

“I believe God is leading us to Papua,” Jared said to me while sitting in a little Javanese restaurant. I still remember my reply and it rising from the depths of some of my greater fears. Hot tears streaming down my face I choke out, “Are you sure?” Indonesia the land of islands had many places for us to go and do tribal work. All of them I was willing except for the island that Jared uttered, Papua. Different people that had come and gone didn't sugar coat the place. It was always perceived in my mind only the most extreme missionaries go there and Lord knows I'm not one! The arm pit of Indonesia, the land of disease, and the last place I wanted to go:) 

After we confirmed it with leadership we received an email saying our home most likely would be broken into within the first month, adjusting will be stressful on our family, and to anticipate culture shock times two!  

I took these words with me as we walked off the tarmac and never forgot them. In fact, I held on to it fiercely and it shaped the way I viewed the world around me. It would never live up to my expectations nor could it because of the walls I built. I stiff armed the people, I rejected their culture, and embraced the notion that this could never be my home. 

The thought that my children would most likely call this place home left an unpleasant taste in my mouth. Why? Was it that rice would forever be a food staple to them? Or the smell of sate coming from street vendors would be more familiar than the smell of BBQ grilling on a summer day. That sidewalks not littered with trash would be a luxury or feeling grass under their feet while playing competitive football would be utterly irrelevant. And most likely never completely understand western thinking.  

Maybe because in my mind we would be different than each other. Things that I hold dear would be an afterthought to them. Or maybe it is the fact that I wouldn't be able to relate to them. My own flesh and blood I wouldn't completely understand or be able to empathize. They would always be torn between two worlds.

It took me going back to the US for maternity leave to realize that the place that used to be home now lacked the luster that I held in mind. It was different somehow, something changed, or I changed. Don't get me wrong, being with family, seeing my kids play with their cousins, and of course eating good ol' American food is still an amazing blessing. 

For the three months we were home I prayed the entire time that God would change me. Change the way I view Indonesia and take my eyes OFF what the world tells me I need or don't have to what is eternal. To keep my eyes fixed on him and be thankful for the opportunity to be able to share His Story with those who have never heard. To help me see Papuans as He sees them. To feel His love and hunger for them to come to the knowledge of His Saving Grace. 

Its still a battle I face daily to be thankful and have a humble, adaptable spirit. But its getting easier as I walk in truth. I truly with all my heart feel we are exactly where God wants us. I have peace saying those words! Knowing he will never leave me or forsake me. That His Love and Grace followed me all the way to the jungles of Papua and loved me through a difficult year that has changed me.