Someone wrote to me lately sharing how when she read my recent post about almost losing my 7-year old, it brought her back to the time when she, too, had a meltdown while serving in Cambodia, after a series of mishaps that kept building on top of the other.
For those of you who’ve lived in the developing world for an extended period of time, only you can understand what this means and the stress it can impose even on the calmest of individuals.
After a month of painful disappointments, of our home furniture arriving piece by piece with defects and incompletions, today offers another blow— our 23-year old car, newly bought two months ago, broke down yet again.
The mechanic kept telling us it’d be fixed “in one more day” but today informed us that the engine he’d ordered was faulty too, so they have to ship another from Dar Es Salaam.
You must be wondering why in the world we have a 23-year old car and why we didn’t see it coming. Well, in this small town where we are, cars are often this old. As foreigners, we are walking targets for our car parts to be swapped out. There’s no way we’d know.
My heart aches for all the purchases we had to make to set up a home here, but were overcharged for because we look different. I can’t blame anyone for not realizing we don’t have a salary, not when poverty here has a real stark face.
Our kids love to keep everyone’s spirits up. Not once have they complained. But going to and from school daily on a long route with the bajaji (tuk tuk) offers its own perils.
We’ve had so many near mishaps.
We’d looked forward all fortnight to celebrate our wedding anniversary next week at a special spot, but it looks like it’ll have to be cancelled.
But alas, the theme of this month’s lessons is learning to accept disappointments.
I will tear and cry and grieve.
And I will also thank God for what we have— our health, our family, our love.
A day when we had power all day and I could open the fridge anytime I wanted without fearing.
Running water.
Healthy puppies.
Money for tomorrow.
Hugs.
Joy is not the absence of tears.
God has a sense of humor.
After considerable conflict & resolution about how we’d like to celebrate our 12th wedding anniversary, He’s showing us what matters most — just each other.
