“You wanna haul buckets of sand with me?” Only my teammate, Elizabeth, can make such a task seem like the most exciting way possible to spend the next few hours. Yeah, sure.
So off we trecked – Karen, Elizabeth, Becky and myself – to a bamboo scaffolding that had been constructed in the less than 24 hours since we were last on site.
Objective: Fill buckets with sand from massive pile at bottom of house. Stack team members at different points along scaffolding. Hold on tight to anything that seems remotely stable. Pass buckets up in ladder fashion, from Elizabeth to Karen to me and, finally, to Becky. Dump buckets in new massive pile on second floor of the house. Watch Thai construction team grout tile floor. REPEAT.
Sounds easy enough, right? We set to work, bucket after bucket flying up our “ladder,” and for the first ten or twenty minutes, it wasn’t too bad. Then my muscles woke up. My “toughness” complex kicking in, I for some reason needed to prove that I could lift them one handed from Karen, below me, to Becky, above me. Sweat pouring into my eyes, dust irritating my allergies, scaffold shaking with every movement… WHATEVER. NO WEAPON FORMED AGAINST ME SHALL PROSPER because, by golly, I have to be the best. I have to work the fastest. I have to impresses everyone with what I can do. Yeah, it’s a really dumb complex. Fortunately, my teammates know me.
They know that this month, I’ve been incredibly challenged by a spirit of performance. All the physical labor we’ve been doing has been “right up my alley.” Flex my muscles by swinging a weed-whacker all day? Heck yeah! Gain respect by pushing the bush-whacker until I nearly faint? Sounds great! Go non-stop until I see two versions of my squad-mate, Amber, and only then consent to quit work early? You know it! (I told you this was a dumb complex.)
One of our projects – scraping cement off of pipes to prepare for painting. Karen and I are "strong like man!"
After three days of feeling like I needed to work myself to death to prove… something… I finally heard God calling me to chill out and spend a day with Him. You mean take a day off? That’s exactly what He meant, but He took the challenge one step further. Spend the day in silence, too!?!?!
In Haiti, my team and I agreed to spend a morning in silence so that we could focus better on our time with God. I DID NOT WANT TO DO THIS – so much so that I pouted in an outhouse for three hours, journaling about how pissed off I was, about how stupid the exercise would be, about how I would have NOTHING to tell them at the end of it and how dumb I was going to look when I turned up empty handed. (For the record, I can and do laugh at how silly I am sometimes!) God showed up in Haiti, and He definitely showed up here in Thailand, too.)
From my hammock, to the front porch of Bud’s caretaker house, to my tent, to grassy knolls and everywhere in between on the property, I roamed around, talked to God, wrote out my confusions, prayed about said confusions, prayed for my teammates, and listened. (I admittedly fell asleep in the hammock, once, but I discovered that God will speak in dreams, as well.)
Long story short, He shed some heavy, fluorescent, incredibly revealing light on why performance is a big deal to me.
A. I come from a family background filled-to-the-brim with hard workers. Taking on tasks for one another is our way of demonstrating love, and the thanks that we get for completing those tasks is our means of receiving affirmation/love from one another. Makes sense.
B. Competition is a powerful, driving force for me. I enjoy challenging myself to beat personal records; I like pushing other people to “step it up,” and I REALLY like winning. Hmmm…
C. It’s difficult for me to accept love without feeling like I need to have earned it. Whether by purchasing gifts, performing acts of service, or speaking words of love and encouragement, I feel the need to constantly “add value” to my side of a relationship. It’s as if I believe that as long as the other person “owes me,” the relationship will continue. That’s not exactly good, right?
Bottom line, I’m not always “working” out of genuine desire and joy of doing so, and with God, that’s not okay.
Back to the scaffold.
Two stories of bamboo… it's about as sturdy as it looks.
My teammates, having been let in on my silence revelations, know how to keep me in check. When I started getting ahead of myself, they would purposely slow down and force me to pause, as well. They consistently reminded me that it didn’t matter if I hauled another bucket as long as we were there, they would love me just the same. They made no comment about how “impressive” my work ethic was and they didn’t feed into my competitive drive, AT ALL! Did I work hard? You bet your sweet bippy! My pectorals are currently killing me! But, realizing that I wasn’t working for need of affirmation, but more out of sheer desire to spend time with my friends, to add to the construction project, to be present and happily involved was incredibly refreshing and fulfilling!
Just like the house we’re working on, I’m still very much “under construction.” One bucket at time, filled with blessings, Spiritual gifts, Godly affirmations, truths, endearments, challenges, life and love, God is piecing me together. Sometimes it’s a grueling process. Sometimes the phases are dirty and messy, and I don’t always like the way things look like they will turn out, but I trust that God is a far better contractor than me. He’s done this a time or two (or 7 Billion!) The end result will be beautiful, to no credit of the house, but only to the builder!
Be Blessed,
Ashlee
