Perspective

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Have you heard the expression “Boots on the Ground?” Well our Live Dead Missionaries are the boots on the Silk Road. Here we’d like to take a moment and allow one of them to share a snapshot of their life with you. Some names and details have been changed, but this is a true story from this colorful, vibrant, and sometimes surprising region.

5-11-16 Blog

When we landed in our new country, we immediately moved in with a local family. We shared space, but had space of our own as well. Our space was small. But, that was ok, because we didn’t have much stuff anyway. We had just sold most of our belongings. In fact, our 6 year old had just sorted through his toys and was only allowed to keep his favorites.

That was hard. But this was it. Our new tiny home.

New Normal

We did life with our host family. This meant that we had meals with them too. It wasn’t only our taste buds that had to adjust, but our stomachs had to as well. The water here is terrible. In fact, dirt and leaves come right out of the faucet.

To say we had serious digestive issues, all 5 of us, would be putting it mildly. After time, our stomachs adjusted. But even 2 years later, our bodies occasionally revolt from all the bacteria.

Culture shock happens very similarly. Challenging in the beginning, and then bit-by-bit you adjust.

But, suddenly, the shock can strike again. And it’s hard.

More Than Enough

You do everything you can to process with your kids. And you hope that they can do this, that they’ll be OK. Only weeks into our transition, our 6 year old got up one morning and came into the kitchen. I asked him what he wanted for breakfast. He paused and then said, “Wow! We are so rich!”

There we stood, in our teeny tiny kitchen looking into our teeny tiny pantry, as he chose between two sad choices for cereal. All this compared to the ten cereal options he was used to, reaching for milk from the fridge that came in a box instead of a nice gallon jug, all the while crossing his fingers that his little stomach would keep it all in.

And he stood rejoicing.

That was a landmark moment for me. That moment I realized that he could do this. That he was more than just OK.

His outburst that morning was so random. But it stuck.

When days are hard here (and we still have those days), I remember the time my little boy shouted and rejoiced for what we do have. God provides. And it is enough.

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