Saturday, November 21, 2015

The thief of joy.

Teddy Roosevelt was apparently a very wise man.

His quote, "Comparison is the thief of joy," is a mantra that has been ringing in my head for well over a year now.  It may not sound very missionary-esque to say this, but it's really easy to be jealous of others here in Lupeni.

Perhaps it's because we live in a small community, with only a few foreigners, so it's all too easy to keep up on who seems to be most popular, effective, integrated, humble, and hospitable.  Whose Romanian is most fluent.  Who has the most local friends.  Who sees the most effective and sustainable results in their work.  Whose house is warmest in the winter ('cause that, I am telling you, is serious stuff!)

But really, I think it's perhaps because living in a culture that's not my own, in a country that's not my own, in an apartment that's not my own, has exposed all sorts of insecurities that were simply hidden back in the States.

I was always jealous and insecure.  I just didn't really notice before, because I was always in places I felt accepted, loved, safe, and competent.  Now that I am living in a place where I don't always feel those things, I haven't become some crazy person.  God's just had the chance to point out that this same ugliness was always lurking under the surface.

Some days I miss the familiarity and comfort and security of our life in the States, in Grand Rapids, back among Calvin friends we loved and trusted -- not only because of their own goodness, but because of how that life made me feel.  It was so much easier to be able to hide from my crazy ugly sin there... or at least replace it with a focus on other areas of improvement that didn't shake me quite so much to the core.

But in the last year or two, I think I've been making progress.  I have moved from terror and grief at this new self-knowledge (think "weeping puddle on the floor") to this place of acceptance.  Not acceptance of the sinfulness that's so deeply embedded in me, but acceptance that God's grace is slowly at work in my life.  Acceptance of the pain of being changed, even if it feels like Eustace Scrubb getting his dragon skin ripped off, knowing that underneath is something a little bit closer to Godlikeness.  Acceptance of the indisputable realization that God knew about that jealous-needy-angry side way before I stopped hiding or ignoring it, and loved me anyway.  (In fact, he probably wasn't the only one who knew about it and loved me anyway...)  Acceptance of this long, long road.  Of owning up to my own sin.  Of asking for forgiveness.  Of fighting off jealousy.  Of embracing gratitude and joy.

This other missionary writer really helped.  Because he says it better than I could, I'm going to quote him here:

... I am getting better at formulating a second thought, which consists mostly of a prayer.  It's not a complex prayer.  In fact, it's only four words: "I'm sorry" and "Thank you."  The complete prayer is this: "I'm Sorry.  Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you."

And somewhere in the midst of my prayer I smile.  I smile because God is good, because God is working, because others have great stories to share, because it's not all about me, because smiling makes my face feel better even when my heart disagrees, even when the smile doesn't last very long.

It's like waving my arms above my head -- the "sorries" and the "thank yous," the prayers and the smiles -- scaring the birds away.


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