I had a bounce in my step. You know the feeling. It’s like the feeling you get when you find out the boy you have had a crush on for months likes you too. I was talking about it to everyone. I felt as if this weight I’d been carrying around my entire life was suddenly lifted. It felt…nice.
Something happened to me in the Philippines. It was as if all of the pieces of the puzzle suddenly came together. As if that last piece right in the middle that I’d been looking for the entire time suddenly was right in front of me. It clicked. The love God has for Kikim and me made something inside of me change. And because it did I was different.
Phnom Penh, where we are now, is one of the top two hottest places we’ve been (I still think Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania is the hottest place on earth.) I hardly sleep. I sweat through everything. I’m tired all of the time. But yet, I had that bounce in my step.
I looked forward to our daily tok tok rides to and from our ministry site where we’re teaching English to university students. Relationships with teammates were making sense. Things had come full circle…
…and then I lost my underwear.
Let me backtrack. Last month, on one of our days off, Emily and I decided we wanted to feel American for just one day. We took a two hour, two dollar bus ride to the nearest city with a mall and went shopping. We caught a movie, too. It was the best. day. ever. We felt semi normal. I bought new underwear because I desperately needed it. I’ve lost several pairs and after months of handwashing, the ones I had left were just plain ratty.
I put them in the wash a couple of days ago and when I came back from ministry one day someone had put my clothes on my bed. I didn’t check right away to see if everything was there. I figured it had to be.
And then Ashlee Hillis got here. She went back to America for almost two months after she got a serious case of malaria in Tanzania. I was EXTREMELY happy to see her return and I’m lucky enough to be sharing a bunk with her this month. But as she was unpacking I noticed a brightly colored dress in her hands. Any time anybody gets something new it’s noticeable since we all have only a handful of items we wear over and over. I asked her to see all the new stuff she brought. I was excited.
And then I saw them. Tags on an Old Navy tank top. She had new tank tops. One of them was white. And it was actually…white. Not an icky gray or off white like the white shirts I’ve seen on others–including me.
I have never in my life felt such jealousy as I did in that moment.
We laughed some at the tears that sprang up in my eyes and I decided I’d shower and go to bed. The tears had to have been because I was tired. So I reached up to get my laundry and realized that the one thing that I have that is still brightly colored is gone. My underwear was gone. And I cried. And when I say cried I mean ugly face, shoulders shaking, weird voice crying.
I walked out to the common area, still crying, trying to find them. Ken asked me what was wrong and I said, “I lost my underwear!” in between sobs.
A similar thing happened to my friend Hope a few days ago. She lost her flip flops and also totally lost it. When I read about it on her blog, I sympathized with her, but it wasn’t until I was sobbing over lost underwear that I truly felt her pain.
Everyone was so nice. Ashlee told me, “don’t worry it’s totally normal for you to cry!” Robin started searching (and found one pair!!) and Ken even climbed the balcony trying to find them (we’re a couple of stories up!).
So I guess another thing clicked.
That soon I will be leaving the people who know the joy of new underwear after nine months of wear and tear. I will leave the people who will climb balconies when you’re crying over something so ridiculous while assuring you that it is far from ridiculous to be crying. And I won’t be with the people who, despite being sick for so long, still think to load up a bag with People, Us Weekly and Life & Style magazines just so you can read all about Sandra Bullock’s divorce and adoption because otherwise you’d be clueless.
And although I’ll continue to choose to walk with a bounce in my step despite missing a pair of undies, I can’t help but wonder how in the world God could have thought me worthy enough to let me be a part of a group of such compassionate, understanding and loving people who are willing to live this crazy life, nasty underwear and all.
