Getting Wrapped Up in It

I’m sitting in my new living room in my new house in my new community, and after six days of living in Batey 7 it feels both natural and strange at the same time. This is hands-down the most extreme change I have ever made in my life, and I can feel it in my deep raw emotions and by how completely overwhelmed I sometimes feel.

Anyone who knows me pretty well knows that I am a definite introvert. I need some time to myself on a regular basis to keep me sane and ready to give my best to the people around me. I could be alone for days and feel perfectly comfortable, even energized.

At least, that was me before I moved to the Dominican. Over a year of having the Dominican culture beaten into me (it was much more pleasant than it sounds) has changed me in many ways, one of them being how little alone time I now need. Don’t get me wrong, I still treasure those afternoons where I can pop in a movie and eat popcorn with me, myself, and I. But I had grown accustomed to having my parents in the next room over, or the neighbor kids interrupting for a half an hour during the show.

But now here I find myself surrounded by strangers in a different culture, and suddenly I have never felt so alone in my life. Yes, my friends and family are just a half an hour away, but around here it really is just me and God, getting ready to do…what? In reality I don’t know what my next move is, and the planner in me is screaming for some concrete direction. Deep down I think I know that in this slow-paced batey community, direction for me isn’t coming.

I always want to share with you bits of wisdom that I gain from my experiences, and it took less than 24 hours to receive my first bit of wisdom from living on my own as a missionary. I’m going to be completely candid with all of you: my first night alone in Batey 7 was rough. Very, very rough. Thinking back on my life, the last time I felt that alone was probably my first night in Honduras when I started my internship for college. But at least I had some familiar comforts there, like my host missionary “parents” who understood the adjustment of entering a new culture. That situation was very similar to my situation now-I had just gotten back from a trip to the DR, and after seeing all my friends there, it was hard to plop myself into a country where I knew no one. For shy people like me (believe it or not), it’s hard to begin in new places.

Anyway, back to my first night. I tossed and turned all night, thinking of nothing but myself and how sad I was to leave everything familiar. I felt almost like I was suffocating in all my loneliness. My morning began quite the same, a lonely pity-party for myself. I had quickly become very tightly wrapped up in my own problems.

Wrapped up in my problems.

I stopped and considered that phrase in a way I never had before. I pictured my problems like a big piece of cling wrap, or like a dark sheet. The more I focused on my problems the tighter the sheet wrapped around me. It covered my legs so I could not move, and it covered my mouth so I could not breathe. Finally it covered my eyes so that I couldn’t see anything or anyone around me. Suddenly my suffocating feeling made perfect sense. I was smothering myself with my heartache.

Maybe all of this sounds very dramatic, and it probably is. But emotions aren’t rational, and they’re also nothing to be ashamed of. Let me tell you my first step in unwrapping myself from my problems.

My parents offered to take me to fill up my propane tank for the stove. We thought the gas station was close by, but it turned into about a 45-minute trip there and back. We passed some towns I had never been to before, and we passed other bateyes that I visit every week. I looked at the endless sugar cane fields that I have passed hundreds of times, and I realized that they were now considered my neighborhood. We passed so many people and so many houses, and for the first time since moving to Batey 7 I felt like I could breathe again. I cast away my own problems for the moment and focused my eyes on the life that was happening around me. I allowed myself to feel how small I am. I am one little person, in one little house, in one little village, in one little country, on one little island. I was so busy putting the weight of the world on my shoulders that I forgot that I was never meant to carry it. I’m not supposed to carry the weight of the Dominican Republic, or even the weight of Batey 7. I’m just supposed to breathe, and to take the next step that God lays out in front of me.

I was sharing with a friend about my concerns before the move. What am I supposed to do when I get there? What if this is a mistake? What if I fail, even though I don’t even know what it is I’m supposed to succeed or fail in? On the night before the big day, she sent some words of encouragement. At the end of her message she wrote, “You may not do something great in the batey but you are going to be something great” (emphasis mine). I think those words were exactly what God wanted me to hear. Why was I so concerned about doing something? The quick answer is because I am American and have been trained to measure my worth through quantifiable productivity. We want results, and we want them fast. According to this thought process, if I leave this batey and it looks basically the same as when I came, then I have failed.

But that’s not a good way to live. That’s not a way to live at all. I would kill myself with the irrational pressure. During my first few days in the batey I reminded myself of my insignificance. Don’t misunderstand me; my life has incredible value because I am a child of God, just as every life has incredible value. But I am just one feeble human with human strength. If God wants to use me during this time in my life to help transform this batey then he will do it. But if he simply wants me to learn to live life with no plan and to have complete dependence on him, then that’s great too. Whatever he wants to accomplish during this time, whether in me or through me, he will do it, because I choose to be obedient.

I still have moments where I feel weighted with adjusting to a new lifestyle and doing it alone, but in those moments instead of getting wrapped up in my problems I instead choose to open my Bible or send a message to a friend. And God has been faithful in sending people to be blessings in my life, like my neighbor boy who shared the fried plantains I made on my first night and who even had the decency to say they were good. Or the man who just showed up while my dad was fixing up the electricity in my house and helped him finish it without expecting anything in return. Or the woman next door who made lunch and dinner for me today (probably because she saw me eating popcorn for dinner two times already). It’s the little things that get me through the times when I feel alone. These difficulties won’t go away overnight. Maybe they won’t go away at all. But if I can look past my front door and remember the people around me who have their difficulties too, my burdens will become lighter as we share our burdens with each other.

I don’t do this nearly enough, but I would like to share with you some things to pray about. Prayer is an amazing gift, and would love to share the privilege of praying about these things together:

1.      Pray that I continue to adjust to my new community.

2.      Pray that I find friends my age to share my time with.

3.      Pray for the community of Batey 7, that they would feel God’s love every day and be open to his word.

4.      Pray for the church and community leaders, that they be given the wisdom to lead Batey 7 in a positive direction that is pleasing to God.

5.      And pray for The Least of These Ministries, that we always seek to serve God to the best of our ability.

I’m looking forward to keeping everyone updated! Thanks for being a part of this adventure with me.