These past six weeks or so have been the hardest weeks of my life. I came back to Swaziland fully expecting things to be challenging and tough. I understood that leaving one's home, one's friends and family, and all things familiar was not going to be easy. What I didn't anticipate was what I have been experiencing. Doubt. Depression. Anger. Fear. Darkness. Despair. Attack.

I have a wonderful friend here in Swaziland. She has lived here for the past twenty years; doing ministry similar in many ways to the work we are doing in Nsoko. We go to Bible Study each Wednesday evening at her home. Last week I shared some of what I was feeling...not all of it, because if I let all of what I am feeling come to the surface I become a blubbering mess of sobs and tears. I was embraced by the group and felt lifted up and encouraged. However, as we were getting into our car, my dear and very direct friend took me into her arms and looked me in the eye. She said: "You underestimated culture shock, Jen! What you are feeling is completely natural." Culture shock?? Me? No way...

After all, it was my idea to come here, wasn't it? I'm the one who upset the apple cart of our comfortable life in America and insisted we must move to Africa and take care of widows and orphans, right? Right?!?!

Sunday afternoon I decided to take some time and research this 'culture shock'. Truly, I had come to the conclusion that I must be going completely crazy and I would have to be airlifted out of Swaziland and delivered straight to Bellevue or Freud's birthplace or wherever there was a team of professionals awaiting my arrival! Does our missionary insurance cover that, I wonder? (note to self: will have to check on this...)

C-U-L-T-U-R-E  S-H-O-C-K  I typed into my Google search engine. As I sifted through the massive amounts of information instantly delivered to me, I came upon some very interesting stuff! I was especially drawn to a website sponsored by  Southern Nazarene University. I moved through pages and pages of information on the topic of missions and culture shock. There were eleven signs/symptoms of culture shock identified:

 

*Unwarranted criticism of the culture and people

*Heightened irritability

*Constant complaints of the climate

*Continual offering of excuses for staying indoors

*Utopian ideas concerning one's previous culture

*Continuous concern about the purity of water and food

*Fear of touching local people

*Refusal to learn the language

*Preoccupation about being robbed or cheated

*Pressing desire to talk with people who "really make sense"

*Preoccupation with returning home

 

Without divulging too much incriminating evidence against myself, let me just say: I identified with seven out of the eleven symptoms! Can I tell you...tears poured down my face as I came to the realization that I wasn't slipping into insanity! I am going through a natural thing that enough other 'well-meaning' folks have gone through to warrant someone making a list of identified symptoms! Why wasn't I prepared for this? Why didn't someone tell me? Maybe someone tried...why didn't I listen?

 

I guess the only defense I have is that I was so focused on the call that I paid very little attention to the cost.

 

I thought the cost was obvious. We sold our house. We sold or gave away at least half of our worldy possessions. Eric left a career he was passionate about. We all left a church that we loved. Claire and Jacob left their beloved school and friends. We all said good bye to family. We walked away from a comfortable, pretty nice life!  Yeah...the cost was clear.

 

Perhaps I had become too clear on the cost...could it be that I actually allowed the cost to become an idol in my life? After all, look at what we gave up to do this work...

 

Yeah....

 

                                                  ...I know....

 

                                                                                                    ....ugly

 

What God is growing in me is a realization that after everyone else becomes tired of hearing about what I have given up to do this work...after I am through telling the story and counting the cost...there comes a time to ask one huge question:

 

 

Why did we choose to do this? What was our true motivation?

 

If our true motivation was to enter a life that resembled the life of Christ...then what did I expect?

 

Why didn't I expect pain?

 

                                   lonliness?

 

                                              misunderstanding?

 

                                                                   suffering?

 

                                                                                      alienation?

 

                                                                                                             culture shock?

 

I don't have an answer to this today. All I have is honesty and willlingness to put my heart out there for people to see...and possibly judge. That's OK.

I'm working it out.

Isn't that what we are doing in this life?

Working it out...with fear and trembling?

 

Last night, as Eric held me and let me cry it out, he lovingly reminded me of this:

 

 

As I heard those words, I felt a weight being removed from my shoulders and off of my heart. I do not have the freedom of saying or believing that somehow I am responsible for getting our family here! I can't take credit or blame  for it! I didn't upset the apple cart...

The call came from the Lord...

 

The junk I am going through is not from the Lord...

 

God is good....and faithful...

 

He holds me in His arms and lets me cry it out...but then He whispers into my soul...