All week, I’d been looking forward to a long-distance conversation with a landlord in Tanzania about a potential home we felt led to.
All week, I’d nursed the vision of my raising the girls in our new old-house, learning, adjusting, crying, adapting…
It would be OK.
We were told of water and power cuts- of power going out in the dry season, of water coming in only at 2AM.
While our short time
spent in Tanzania felt so stable and well provided for, it was what it was- just a short trip.
Life there in this small town would be very different indeed.
We had seen many houses there, viewed many homes. We’d been given insight to the challenges living there.
But today, over three conversations, the reality became a little starker.
I began to imagine my 6-yr old struggling with eczema without AC or a fan working in the heat.
I began to imagine losing my earbuds and not being able to get them replaced, with the nearest mall being a 2-7 hour drive away.
I began to remember all the times we lived in Uganda waiting for water or electricity to come back on.
Today was a hard day.
One of my bosses asked me why I would throw away a perfectly comfortable life and a prestigious position here to start life anew somewhere else.
To serve people who may not appreciate you,
to live and work inefficiently and struggle with basic amenities,
to have no clear inkling or control of what your next ten years would look like.
Why would you do that?
I tried to shut my eyes but I could not sleep.
I tried to tell myself things would be different this time but I knew some things would be the same.
I tried to ask myself what my girls would say. But they are now fast asleep.
“Mama, when are we going back?” They’d asked in the day.
I’ve asked myself many times what it would take to break me—
Difficult living conditions?
Cross cultural stress?
A lack of purpose?
My children’s education opportunities or lack thereof?
A “thrownaway” career?
And I always came back to asking myself the same question-
If, at the end of my time, I gained nothing but lost everything as Job did, would I still praise God?
Would showing up in obedience to what we felt He led us to be
ALL SUFFICIENT IN ITSELF?
Would I have the courage to wake up every morning, no matter what my circumstances, to thank God for leading me this way?
I’m curious to know.
When everything falls apart, perhaps that’s when I’ll know if my faith and mettle was real at all.
believe 100% in God’s goodness.
But I also believe that He calls us to count the cost.