Through the Motions

 
I’ve always loved that quote. Throughout the years, and especially the last 10 months, it has inspired me, motivated me and encouraged me. I stumbled upon it again a couple of days ago in my daily devotion, and this time it convicted me. You see lately I feel as if I’ve actually been doing the opposite of Wesley’s recommendation. My “make it through the last month of the World Race strategy” has been to get by with doing as little as I can. I’ve still been doing ministry when asked, but my heart just hasn’t been in it. I rush through the task at hand, usually with a bad attitude, then retreat immediately to my tent.
 

I realized that lately I’ve been more content to watch a movie by myself than to snuggle an orphan, happier reading a book than spending time with my teammates, preferring to pick up trash with my headphones blaring to avoid talking to anyone. 

I feel like I have nothing else to give. The past ten months have drained me. Some of my squadmates are dreading the end of the World Race, but I for one couldn’t be more excited to go home, to give up living as a missionary and to trade the “inconveniences” of living in third world countries for the comforts of America.
 
India is hard. India is one of my least favorite countries on the Race.
 
As you can tell, I’m longing for home, and India could not be more different than the U.S. Here are a few cultural differences that are on my last nerve:

• The relentless honking. This has driven me nuts all year but India is by far the worst.
• The cows roaming the streets. Cows are considered holy in India, so they cannot be eaten. They are free to wander wherever or just lie down in the middle of the road, blocking traffic.
• Because cows are holy, they eat buffalo and drink buffalo milk here instead.
• The head bobble. When you ask an Indian a question they just bobble their head back and forth and I can never tell if they mean yes or no. It apparently almost always mean yes, even if the answer is really no. It’s confusing.
• Babies walk around without pants on. I’ve learned diapers are unheard of in most other cultures, and I’ve had my fair share of babies pee on me. But India takes it to another level. They let their babies poop right on the floor of the living room.
• There are monkeys everywhere here. Not cute, friendly little monkeys, but monkeys that hiss at you and steal your flip flops. (Flip flops are of course left outside the door because you cannot wear shoes inside Indian homes. I hate having dirty feet! Carpet may be one of the biggest things I’m looking forward to).
• Having to go running in pants and with our shoulders covered. In the village they didn’t want Kathryn and I to run alone, so Isaac and Sam (two guys helping us out this month) ran with us in a skirt and jeans, respectively, with both of them barefooted. Women have to cover their ankles but men can wear nothing but a tiny piece of fabric wrapped around their waist? Makes no sense to me.
• I mentioned this in my last blog, but in India toilet paper and forks are unheard of. You eat with your right hand, wipe with your left hand. 

(Isaac, our translator, and me, next to the fence we put up). 

My team’s ministry this month is visiting five different villages and living in foster homes. We are helping to build fences around the homes. While in the village we eat heaping portions of white rice, one hard-boiled egg a day, and a few bites of potato curry, if it’s not too incredibly spicy. It is hot and humid and even worse when the power goes out (constantly) and the fans don’t work. We sleep above the home in the church, on the concrete floor, with bugs crawling all over us. During the day we use some pretty gross squatty potties on the main floor and at night when they lock us out, we have to pop a squat outside.  Despite the bucket showers we smell terrible, because we have to wear the same two outfits over and over again.  
 
As hard as it has been, I keep trying to remind myself that these children LIVE here full time. And it is a BLESSING for them to live there. They don’t get to “escape” for two or three days at a time to stay in an apartment with air-conditioning and Internet. Instead they sweetly praise the Lord, thanking Him that they have a bed. Some of them have blankets and pillows, some don’t. They have even fewer outfits than we do. Instead of grumbling about the food, they are thankful to HAVE food at all and cheerfully scarf down a giant plate of rice.
 
We had Second Saturday over the weekend, where all of the CCH kids get together for worship and games. The theme was “thankfulness.” We taught them Psalm 136:1, “Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good. His love endures forever.” In small groups they went around and each shared one thing they were thankful for. My mind raced with things I am thankful I will have again in three and a half weeks: my soft bed and delicious food and modern appliances. One by one, the children stood up and shared that they were thankful for the chance to go to school, that they have a uniform to wear to school, that they were given a backpack, and that since coming to CCH they now know Jesus.
 

My girls’ simple and sweet responses made me feel awful about the current condition of my heart. More than anything this Race has taught me how thankful I should be, and I’ve lost sight of that in the past few weeks. Instead of being thankful, I’ve been negative. Instead of being patient and loving, I’ve been selfish.
 
I’ve been so focused on the destination I’ve stopped enjoying the journey. I’ve been missing opportunities to serve and to be the hands and feet of Jesus, to love the poor and to live out the Gospel, all the reasons I came on this trip in the first place.
 
This is NOT the way I wanted to finish the Race. After my mini breakdown at the start of month nine, I was bound and determined to finish strong. I know I was called to 11 months. I wanted to finish out this season well, savoring my time left and soaking up everything God has for me. But instead, I’ve been going through the motions.
 
Today my team left to go into the third village to build another fence for another CCH home. I stayed behind. My plan is to spend the next two days reading and praying and crying and processing and journaling. I need some time alone with my Father, to talk to Him, to plead for His grace and forgiveness, to ask Him to change my heart. I need Him to build me back up and give me purpose to push on for three more weeks.  I know it’s not time to throw in the towel yet.

 
(These are two of my favorite boys from our first CCH home. Samuel (right) is so full of joy. Both of his parents had AIDS. His dad died and his mom is currently dying. Praise the Lord Samuel is not HIV positive. Samuel has a bright smile and even though he’s the youngest boy in the house, he’s the most outgoing, constantly leading the others in songs or silly dances. Samuel told us he wants to be a pastor when he grows up).