Sometimes God Asks for the Mundane

I am so excited to start a blog chronicling my experience as a missionary in Lebanon. I thought of writing a monthly email to circulate to family and friends but this will be easier to share with others.

The purpose of this blog is to capture the moments, through picture, sound, and words, so they are not lost when I leave. Perhaps if there is enough content I can put it together into a book; we shall see. It is also my intent to be real about the experience. I don't want to discourage anyone and I don't plan to whine or complain on this platform. I just want to be real about the challenges that a person faces when living abroad or away from the familiar.

When I chose to accept the call to come here, I was returning to the familiar. I'd lived here 17 years ago and I was excited that I could come home in a sense. After finishing a master's thesis on third culture kid losses and how adults integrate those into their identity, I was ready to return to where it all began. Hence the title of this blog.

At the same time, I knew things would have changed. I was now an adult, I was coming as a missionary instead of a missionary's child, several of my close friends had left, others had gotten married, and I would be living on my own. This was going to be my adventure.

The first month has flown by and I am nearing my 6 week mark already. I have accomplished many things yet I've found myself wondering if I could do more. This week has been a growing week in learning that sometimes God asks for the mundane. From my mother's encouraging email to the daily devotional reading in My Utmost for His Highest, I have been impressed that life is not made up of grand gestures. True, there are defining moments and moments when you know you're making a difference. But often, life is the mundane.

It's sitting in the cafeteria and smiling as you eat the familiar salad that's served at every meal. It's starting class with time for prayer requests and a devotional about having the faith of Jesus, even if you stumble in trying to explain what seemed so simple when you studied it in the morning. It's sitting with a friend who just needs to talk and listening. It's faithfully showing up for prayer meeting and vespers and church and cheerfully serving.

When I was young, I took piano lessons, mostly because my mother wanted me to be able to play from the hymnal. She promised that when I could play well enough, I could stop taking lessons. I began to dream, though, of one day becoming a concert pianist. I imagined myself in grand cathedrals, leading legendary orchestras with my virtuoso talents. I never reached that level but I carried that drive for excellence into many areas of my life and felt frustrated when reality fell short.

I had planned to accomplish many things when I came here. I've found, though, that life in a new country takes time to calibrate. Cooking takes twice as long when you keep everything in your room on a different floor and have to shop at two different grocery stores for all the ingredients you need. Something as simple as drinking water becomes complicated when you have to calculate how long your 10-liter jug will last and if you should buy water at the cafeteria on Friday or on Sunday.

Sometimes you just have to leave your own agenda behind and follow what God puts in front of you each day, my mother said. I was frustrated because I wanted to change the world. She was quietly reminding me that my calling was not to a place or even to a ministry--it was to God. And in this moment, God was asking me to be content with the mundane. So it shall be.