On being a foreigner....

When you live in another country, life can just be hard. There have been so many amazing things that have happened since I moved to Mexico City - moments where I can't even believe the favor that God has given me in situations, but to be honest, there have also been a lot of things that have just really stunk.

It took six weeks to get into an apartment...including drama like losing a $600 deposit, getting cussed out by a slightly imbalanced landlord, having a panic attack in Costco and packing up every day for 5 days in a row thinking "today will be the day"!

One of the hardest things for me has been the loss of my independence. For a while, I couldn't do anything simple like buy a cell phone because I didn't have my FM3 visa - add to that, my lack of language - well, I feel like I always have to ask some one how to do something or to please go with me to do it. I hate that. I hate feeling like I can't "do" my job well, I hate feeling crippled and asking for help. I often feel like I've just lost my competence.

We have a major event coming our way next week. Since it takes two weeks to get internet set up when you move, we've had no email in our house. A week ago, my blackberry decided to stop getting emails. For almost a week with this major event coming my way, I've had to try to stand in the corner with my computer half out the window to "borrow" internet from a neighbor....go to Starbucks or if I need to use a US phone, try to make my way to some ones house to hope it works. It's felt very crippling. Today, my phone stopped working and we were waiting for the guy to finally hook up our internet. I felt so helpless and useless in the whole process.

Then finally, there's the relational aspect. In some ways relationships have been really fun here - more than I ever imagined. In other ways they've been painful and disappointing. I miss friends back home. I miss having a life outside my job and a church that I look forward to going to on Sundays. I miss my good friends and sometimes wonder if they've forgotten me....or if they will forget me.

So, today as I was trying to explain to the lady at the copy(in my terrible Spanish) that I wanted 15 copies, not one, I just finally admitted - living as a foreigner can be really hard. You give up your rights. You can complain all day long but it really doesn't change the fact that you still don't belong here....that ultimately you're just a visitor. I think in the US, we just get so used to getting what we want, when we want it. Life works out pretty well, even painful and hard things. Here, somehow it's different. It's not easy to be a foreigner. It's not easy to give up your rights. We keep joking by saying "we've got to get a break from this" but the reality is, we don't....I'm a visitor.

Throughout this process, I'm realizing how much I try to hold on to my rights, how much I try to manipulate my relationships for my good and how much I hold on to equating God's goodness with his blessings.

It's not easy - there are days that I'm really angry with God - that I really wonder if he's there, if he's good, if he's for me.

But other days, I feel like truth is seeping into the deepest parts of my life - that I will never be the same.

I guess it's all just another step on the journey.....

Wrong Turn

Last night I as I was coming back from Puebla with Craig and Joe, I was trying to get a little sleep after a crazy week. Getting a little sleep in the back set of a car with two guys is not the easiest thing - first, it's cold enough to open an ice cream stand in the car and second, they tend to like to play speed racer so you bounce around all over the place. I finally had dozed off to wake up in Mexico City not too far from my house. We had to turn around on a major street and as we turned the corner, I saw them - 2 prostitutes standing on the corner.

Now, I'm not a sheltered or naive person by nature, but I had never experienced the emotions that I did in that moment. As the our headlights revealed their faces, they looked so young. The deep sadness of their lives hit me. These are young women - daughters, sisters (and many probably mothers) with hopes and dreams. They were little girls who dressed up as princesses and dreamed of their knight in shinning armor coming on a white horse to sweep them away in a cloud of romance. They played with dolls and braided their hair. But there they stood on the street corners in Mexico City.....selling their bodies to earn a living.

I think it's easy for us to think of prostitutes as dirty or as those who don't deserve a better life. Maybe I've thought that before. I don't think I'll soon forget those young faces dressed up seductively to entice men. I think of Jesus....of how he ate with those women - how he gave them dignity - how he gave his life for them.

My life has been focused on the things that make me happy or comfortable lately. I've been angry that some of my dreams haven't worked out the way I hoped. As I climbed into my safe and warm bed last night, I couldn't help but remember how blessed my life really has been. I hope that some day these girls can lay their heads down experiencing the same rest.