Soy Misionera

            “Tía, hola!” The little, lisping voice came from below my window. A face peeked just over the edge revealing an expectant face. The big grin had been hard for me to get used to a first. Jose Luis was missing his top teeth and his bottom teeth were partially rotted away.

            “Hola” I responded with a smile. Since I have the weekends "off. " It felt awkward to venture out into the crowd of kids when I wasn’t technically supposed to be there and when I hadn't been there all day.

            “Ven aquí!” He pleaded, holding out a crumpled handful of leaves, “para ti.” He insisted, running around to my door to try and give it to me. I debated on whether or not to open it again. The kids kind of got in trouble every time I opened the door to their knocking... They especially got in trouble when they came in without knocking. I ended up locking my door. I had been in and out of my room for the past hour. Each time the kids wanted me to come out again. At one point my door kept being banged against, I slid the bolt and opened the door to find four kids almost falling into my room. They peeked around me asking questions in rapid succession. They were curious about why my bed was in the room, why I was sleeping here. Juan looked at me and said "Porque?" with the most quizzical and mischievous expression. I laughed and tried to formulate a sentence that would say I was living here. He must have understood because he raised his eyebrows and said "OH!!!!" In as deep a voice as a four-year-old can have, before running off to play. 

It all started because my little room doesn't have a bathroom or kitchen so when I first went out I needed something in the baby house. After coming back out I saw petite baby Damaris on the red tile porch. I picked her up and threw her in the air a couple of times. Her dark pigtails bounced up and down every time. Her little mouth opened wide as I threw her in the air and giggles burst from her when I caught her again. She didn’t want to be put down after that so I held her and ran my fingers up her arm to tickle her. She squirmed and threw her head back in laughter. I laughed too. I tried setting her down her again but she still didn’t want me to. I didn’t mind. The sun was shining, for once the kids were shrieking with laughter instead of defiance, the breeze was blowing and everyone was happy. 

To think, just this morning I was struggling because I didn't feel "fulfilled" here. I had asked God, "where is the joy that is supposed to come from serving you?" 

Maybe it has been hiding behind my complaints.

I've been reading in Philippians and realizing how very wrong my outlook has been this past week. 

I've been concerned about my own comforts. Annoyed with the missing toilet seat in the bathroom closest to my room, the constant need to use bottled water to brush my teeth, the ants that have found their way into my room, the lack of a shower curtain in the bathroom, the flickering lightbulb that lights my room, the kids' seemingly constant whining and complaining. 

In language school, they tell me that my occupation is 'misionera' -missionary. 

I don't feel like a missionary at all. 

I play with kids.

Make them eat their food. 

Break up their fights. 

Try to make them mind. 

I don't speak the language enough to get to know the other tias, I can't pray with the kids and help them to understand who God is. I can only show love. And that's frustrating. Especially when that is met with rebellious glares and kicking and screaming instead of unquestioning obedience and adoring caresses. (I'm mocking my daydream world of what working in an orphanage would look like.) 

Still, I'm doing what I've dreamed of since I was a little girl. Paul was in prison, what did he have that I was missing?

He had learned to be content in all circumstances. 

He had learned to rejoice no matter the situation. 

He had learned to trust the sovereignty of his God. 

I want to thrive here, not just survive. That doesn't mean that I have to come back, but I want to grow and learn and love. I want to be lost in my Savior, not lost in myself. 

Philippians 3:19-21

Their end is destruction, their god is their belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things. But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it, we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly bodies to be like His glorious body, by the power that enables Him even to subject all things to Himself. 

Am I living in light of eternity? 

I ask myself; do I believe that this is what God called me to? 

Yes

Do I believe that He is sovereign?

Yes

Therefore, there must be a disconnect between my beliefs and my emotions and actions.

Though I say that I believe He is sovereign, I complain in my situations instead of rejoicing in the truth that God is in control. He knew every detail of time here in Bolivia and it is for His preordained purpose. My prayer this week is that I learn to abide in Him and trust His will and find joy and contentment in being in His capable, sovereign hands. 

Soy misionera.

Imperfect

Saved by grace

Loved by a mighty God

Where He has me, for His reasons

His will for some is to share the gospel on street corners, others in their homes and workplaces. 

For me, right now, His will is for me to love even when I don't have words and to do it with rejoicing, for His glory. 

God is good.

All the time.

And all the time?

God is good.