Hot or Cold

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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.
My infant child spiked a high fever within days of arriving to our new home. Even though, as a nurse, I had all the knowledge I needed in order to get that fever down, I panicked. “What were we thinking?! We have zero options for medical care here. What do we do now?”
Then, all at once I had more help than I had wanted. The women in my host family barged into my bedroom where I was holding my 8-week- old child. They took her from my arms and starting grabbing blankets, wrapping her furiously. We had little to zero grasp of language at this point. But with a game of charades they explained she got sick from the cold.
Nice theory, except, it was mid June and ridiculously hot outside. They were pointing to her kidneys, convinced they would fail if I didn’t keep her already hot body wrapped up. They soon began asking me for money as they readied themselves for a trip to the pharmacy to get meds for my infant, of which I had no idea what they would be. They insisted.
I learned a few things in that one moment. First, there are cultural differences. Nothing I say will change their thinking. And no matter how long they tell me that my feverish baby is cold, they won’t change my mind either.
I learned that early, and that has been a valuable lesson. We are different.
Secondly, no matter how much of a people pleaser I am, no matter how much easier it may have been to appease them by allowing them to buy the medicine for my baby, it’s ok to say no. I am responsible to protect my kids and do what’s best no matter what my new friends think.
And thirdly, I learned how much these people loved us.
I remember feeling overwhelmed by this and often felt my privacy was gone. But they barged in not because they had something to prove. They came in because they heard my child screaming and they were there to help…the best they knew how.
I didn’t have the strength to tell the women not to go to the pharmacy that day, so my husband did. He thanked them for the help, and assured them our baby’s kidneys would be ok. I freed my child from the layer of blankets and did what I knew to do.
And soon she was fine.
Across cultures, it is especially important to discern motives. Love is a universal kindness, and yet, can be expressed so differently.
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