It was the kind of week that makes you crash into bed every night around 10:00, and that’s after having fallen asleep on the couch.

It was the kind of week where the kids are wearing super random outfits because the laundry is literally taking over our kitchen.

It was the kind of week where being a missionary is just a little bit harder than I had anticipated.

It started out wonderfully.   Mother’s Day on Sunday, witnessing our littlest team member be baptized, an incredibly exciting team meeting, and even getting to celebrate our 8th anniversary at a very romantic spot in Bogota.  

But then things started to get weird.

There was an incredibly uncomfortable conversation (okay, confrontation) with a set of security guards who wouldn’t let us back into our friend’s housing complex to pick up our kids (who were being babysat there).  Then we found out that due to decreasing funds in our support account, I really do need to stop language school – by the end of this month.  I had been planning on taking a break to get ready for the baby and recover afterwards, but as I said in the last post, I don’t feel ready to end my Spanish learning, and that even though I’ve been studying for a year, I know there is still so much more to learn.

But that also meant that I had to tell my gem of a Spanish teacher – who was disappointed and said, “oh no, we’ve just started getting into a good groove of learning.”  But worst of all, we had to let our nanny know that she wouldn’t have a job after the end of the month.  There wasn’t a dry eye in the room as we explained everything about the money situation and that we could only hire her because I am in school and that we love her and feel like we are losing a member of the family.  We explained how happy the kids are with her and how much their Spanish has grown and how we can see that her influence in their lives is only positive.  But, I think she still wonders if it is something that she did wrong, which hurts our hearts too.

And then there was yesterday.  It wasn’t an emotionally hard day as much as just frustrating.  Because I have negative blood and Nathaniel has positive blood, I always need a little shot towards the end of the pregnancy to prevent my body from attacking the baby or creating antibodies that will attack future babies.  The more I read about it, the more confused I get, but basically, in the States this shot is given in the Dr’s office at the 28 week appointment.  Here, you don’t just go get a shot in the Dr’s office.  You have to remind your doctor that you need it, sometime around 33 weeks, then you are sent to a lab one morning after fasting, then you wait for the results over a holiday weekend, then you are sent on a wild goose chase around a sketchy part of town to actually find a place that administers this shot.  Then you realize that you aren’t allowed to drive on that day after 3:00, and have to rush home in fear that your car will be seized, wasting an entire afternoon and still having no idea where to get a shot that without it may affect our future babies.

It has been one of those weeks that I know they warned us about before coming to the field.  There have been tough situations due to cultural misunderstandings (not understanding why the security guards are being so hostile), painful situations because of the nature of missions (support accounts, having to leave behind people who mean a lot to us), and frustrating situations because we are living overseas (and in an impossibly ginormous city).  Every stress is heightened here as we navigate our new culture here and missing our home culture in the States.

I thought about writing about how this week has taught me just how much I need to work on my contentment and living fully in the moment, no matter the circumstances – which is certainly the truth and something I am working on.  But I think even more, weeks like these remind me of the command we have as Christians to live in this world as if we are foreigners, uncomfortable until we reach our final Home.

I have a year now of living as a foreigner, and I am reminded of that every time I walk out of my house, or try to speak, or have to present my document which has the word “foreigner” stamped all over it.  It is uncomfortable.  There are times of great joy and fellowship and adventure, but there is always a sense that we don’t quite fit in. I also know that even though I still have my passport, I am always kind of going to be a foreigner to the States too because even though we left our home a certain way, it is going to continue to change and morph while we are gone, and we are going to be left behind.  We literally now have nowhere to really call home – except for in the arms and promises of Jesus.

Until we moved here to Bogota, I had never experienced anything like this.  I had never really longed for heaven because I think my life has just been so happy and easy and full of reasons to want to stay here on earth.  My life is still full of joy, and I still want to stay here on earth, but also with a greater realization of the great promises of what is ahead of me, of a place where I will finally feel comfortable and at “home.”

In the midst of this week, I wanted out.  I wanted to stop having uncomfortable things happen to us and those we love.  I wanted us to go back to life feeling easier and less stressful.  But, I am also thankful because I know that God uses these weeks to point our hearts towards his promises of heaven and the reminder that we are here to live for Him.  I know we are going to slip back into a good routine, I’m sure that somewhere in Bogota is this silly shot that I need, and I pray that our dear nanny will heal from the hurt of being laid off.  But as life starts to get “easier” I also pray that I don’t forget what I’ve learned – and I need you all to remind me of this if I start to!

I know some people see languages as a gift, a challenge, a way that God has used to color the world and make it a more interesting and diverse place to live in.  I, however, see language as a result of people trying to build a large tower and were punished by the curse of confusion.

Language aquisition has not been my strongest area here on the mission field so far.  The Spanish language is beautiful.  It is colorful and poetic and you can play with the verbs to tell a very rich story.  The problem is, I have to learn how to use those verbs, and there are 10 ways or more to use each and every one.  And not using them correctly can make you sound like a 3 year old, which is how I sound on a daily basis.

I’m at the point in my language studies where I have an idea of where I should be.  I tell myself that most people after a year are at *this* point, but I’m still way back here.  It isn’t for lack of trying, I know that.  It isn’t because I don’t spend enough time with Spanish speakers – I mean, I have Spanish speakers in my home who I talk to every day, I attend a Spanish speaking church, and I’ve been in school for almost a year.  And try as I may to convince myself of this, it isn’t because I’m a bad person or a bad missionary.

I dreaded this process of learning Spanish, really since the day I met Nathaniel.  I never did well in Spanish in high school or college, and I used to tell myself that it didn’t really matter since I wasn’t ever going to use Spanish.  Now I’m here, in Colombia, and oddly enough, most people don’t understand English, and it feels like even fewer understand my Spanish.

When I look back on where I was when we first got here vs. where I am now, I know I have grown and can say and understand so much more than I even realize.  But when I look at what is in front of me, and what I have yet to learn, I get very discouraged.  I am so proud of my little Jeremiah who tonight as I was quizing him on Spanish words, seemed like he was teaching me how to say things and translating words I didn’t even know he knew in English.  But seeing his little brain absorb Spanish like a giant sponge makes me sad that I am trying to soak it up with a wet hand towel, in a brain that is already kind of full and not terribly young.

I write this because I need prayer!  I am at the point where I am not going to be able to continue school for too much longer, and part of that is a relief, and part of that gives me a knot in my stomach because I know that now my language learning is up to me.  I’m not going to have a teacher come to my home and tell me what to study – I’m going to have to start downloading Spanish books and reading them (that is the trickeier part).  I’m going to have to start making Spanish speaking friends at the park or in our neighborhood.  I’m going to have to start looking for ways to learn – while raising three small children, and make sure that their Spanish is coming along too.

I also write this because I want to be real with you all, something that I work very hard at being.  I love sharing funny antidotes on facebook about the crazy things I accidentally said, and I know it is part of the entetaining and clumsy process of learning a language, but I also want you to know that it can really be painful too.  There are days when I feel so isolated because I just can’t go out and really get to know someone.  I feel so sad when I realize that what I just said to the waitress came across as rude because I was in such a hurry to ask for what I needed and with such limited vocabulary.  I feel really dumb when I sound so uneducated and when people don’t understand why I don’t understand them.  It hurts my feelings when someone is clearly frustrated by talking to me, or worse, when they laugh at me.  It is so painful to me when one of the ladies here is trying to share a very personal and emotional story, and if I understand most of it, I still have to ask them to clarify what they are saying, or just pretend like I get it and am listening.  Maybe that’s why they share so much – they know their secret is safe with me because I will never be able to re-tell what they are saying!

I am trying to keep a positive and lighthearted attitude about this whole new world of Spanish.  I know I’m not the first missionary to struggle through the language.  I’m pretty sure I’m not going to be kicked off the field for not having this down perfectly.   But I just really wish that it was one area that I excelled in.  I think mostly because it would feel good to have people say, “Man, Alicia’s Spanish is really good!”  I think I feel like it would reflect well on who I am as a person and as a missionary.

But that isn’t an area that God chose to make easy for me.  He chose to have me struggle through it, just like so many other missionaries have done, and will continue to do.  I know it is part of the call to the mission field, and I know that of all the languages in the world, Spanish is not one of the hardest to learn.

This video  by John Piper got me all emotional when I saw it.  His gentle and kind ways of wording things, specifically to someone like me, was so encouraging and loving and writing as someone who has struggled to learn a foreign language, I felt like he hit the mark on where we need the most encouragement.  I highly recommend watching it, even if you aren’t learning a language yourself, but supporting those who are, it is a touching and worth watching.  I know that you all back home aren’t expecting me to come home with perfect Spanish, but some days it feels like I’m failing you all too.  And it is words like the above that encourage me that you are on my side too. And so is God.  And so are the people we are ministering too.  No one is waiting for me to fail at my Spanish.  No one is in competition with me.  And no one is seeing this as a major character flaw.  I’m not being evaluated by what I can and can’t say, and I am asking for you all to pray with me that this would be on my heart as I struggle through speaking and understanding people here who I genuinely love and want to get to know better.

We read to our kids the Jesus Storybook Bible and their version of the story of the Tower of Babel reminds us  that even though the people were trying to build a tower to get to God and to Heaven,  God was going to need to come down to us to rescue us.  That is how I need to see the Tower of Babel.  Not as a place where all of my language learning troubles began, but as another reminder of how much we need Jesus.  I need him in my daily life, as I parent and as I minister to people, and as I learn Spanish.  There is no promise of my Spanish ever becoming perfect, but there is a promise that He is with me as I learn and as I speak, and He who has called me to the mission field will also be there with me as I navigate even the toughest parts of this missionary life.  Gracias a Dios!

I was in college the first time I really understood this concept.  I was facing my senior year, still single, still unsure of what to do with my life, and there wasn’t much that made it seem like that was going to change.  And as silly as it feels now, a young Christian girl graduating from a Christian college still single felt at the time like I was going to live the rest of my life unmarried and without children.

And then I remembered this verse, Jeremiah 29:11, and my heart changed.  Okay, so maybe I won’t find Mr. Right in college, or ever, and maybe I won’t have an outstanding career, but there is a plan, and it isn’t to harm me, but to make my life even better, because just as we want that for our children, God wants that for his as well.

Well, of course you know how that worked out.  The guy I least expected stole my heart, we fell in love and got married a week after graduation.  Not only did God have plans for my life to prosper me, they were actually the plans that I wanted him to have!

A few years later, I stared at negative pregnancy test after negative test – for two years.  We wanted a baby so badly but it just wasn’t happening for us.  We decided to pursue adoption, and fostering children became one of the greatest joys we have had in our marriage so far.  I remember though, that the road wasn’t easy.  Wanting a baby of our own turned into wanting any baby, which turned into wanting any child to call ours, and through out that journey God continued to remind me of his promise in Jeremiah.  He has the plans for my life.  They aren’t to harm me, they are to make my life better.  Five years later we have two, almost three beautiful children (one named after these promises) who God gave to us biologically, and we had the ministry of foster care.

And today we had the blessing to announce another way the Lord’s promises have been manifested in our lives.

We knew we wanted to go to the mission field with a team.  Two weeks after Gabriella was born, Nathaniel went to an MTW conference for the purpose of recruiting team members.  Every church we spoke at, we ended our talk with, “if you are interested in joining our team, please talk to us.”  I really didn’t think  we’d have a team of people in Huanta, at least for our first term there, but we did have a peace about that and were excited to work solely with the nationals there.

I remember the first time we heard about the Bonham and Kines families. (Nate and Nikki Bonham and Josh and Emily Kines.)  We were at the MTW office and our coach told us about two couples who were called to the field, together, but they didn’t know where they were called to.  We later learned that we would be in Bogota together doing this training program.  A few days before we were scheduled to leave for Bogota, our boss, Gary called us to see if we would be interested in having breakfast with the Bonhams who were in town for Easter weekend.  We met with our four small children in a noisy Cracker Barrel and briefly got to know each other.  Less than a month later we met them again, this time in Bogota and with the Kines and spent a little time touring our new city.  They all seemed like nice people and we were happy that they were going to join the program in a few months.  I was especially excited to have buddies with me at school.

One night in August, while Gary was in town for a visit, we sat around our tiny kitchen table and mapped out what needed to happen to get these two families settled in as smoothly as possible.  We had things like, “get them their visas,” “get them nannies,” “find housing,” etc.  I look back at those moments and marvel at the Lord’s grace and blessings.  In those moments when we were interviewing their future nannies, grocery shopping for their first week here, scouting for housing and reserving transportation, we had no idea that we were doing this for people who were about to become so incredibly important to us!

Soon after they arrived here in September, Nathaniel especially, grew very close to them.  And of course, by the Lord’s perfect plan, it was because he knew Spanish and they hadn’t yet studied it.  You become very familiar with a person when you have to order pizza for them or talk to their landlord about a running toilet.  And this never ever seemed like a burden, but more like a unique way to help our new friends.

And that friendship grew and grew, around the same time that it was becoming clear to us that our call to missions was changing, and things were not going to work out for us in Huanta.  (for more information about that, please read our newsletter, if you haven’t already!)  We were heavy hearted by this news and felt kind of lost – like we were in the very first stages of being interested in missions – except we’d already raised our support and were on “the field.”

But God had plans for us.  Plans not to harm us, but to give us an even better future.  

The Lord put it on our hearts, and on the hearts of the Bonham and Kines families that maybe we had a team right here, waiting for us!  Not only did we three couples have the same visions and goals for missions, but we really like each other and, the cherry on top, we are all in the same stage of life, which means our 9 kids have each other to play with…constantly.

(From the top, clockwise, Gabriella, Barrett Bonham, Jeremiah,  Anne- Elise, Jak, and Matthew Kines, Noah Bonham, Carter and Ava Kines)

After much prayer, meetings, and counsel, it became clear that this was certainly the Lord leading us to join our three families together and we are just thrilled to announce that we are committed to walking together, as a team, where ever the Lord leads us.  The three men have been diligently scouting out a new location for us to serve, starting next year, and we are praying for clear direction as to where that will be.

On a personal, less formal announcement kind of note, I have to say that Nikki and Emily have become huge blessings in my life in the 8 months I’ve known them.  Their passion for the Lord and for missions is inspiring, but also the way they love their husbands and their children is incredibly humbling.  We have experienced trials with them right by our side…for instance when Gabriella was in the hospital and Jeremiah needed a place to stay – Emily and Josh hosted him at night, comforting him when he was lost and insecure, and Nikki and Nate cared for him during the day – when he had the most energy and needed food!  And did I ever mention that while I was in the hospital with Gabriella, our moving truck came with all of our things from the States?  This is Nikki sitting on my kitchen floor, cutting contact paper to put on my shelves so my new dishes would have a clean home, while Jeremiah played happily at Emily’s house. That’s friendship right there.

We had always figured that having a team would be wonderful, but had no idea that being on a team also meant that when one leg is literally kicked out from under the tripod, there are two more, strongly able to hold it up and care for the third.  And that has been our relationship from the get-go, and I pray will continue to be that way for the unforseable future.

We were so thankful to be able to announce this new team to our friends, family and supporters today, and have been blessed by the outpouring of excited support that you all have shown us.  This is a happy day for our team, and we are so looking forward to what plans the Lord has next.  His promises in Jeremiah 29:11 have carried me through since college, and now we are standing in the middle of another demonstration of that.  Thanks be to God!  

I didn’t grow up with help in our home, nor did I have it in our first 7 years of marriage.  One time, one single time, I remember being about 37 weeks pregnant with Jeremiah and a lady from our church offered to come and clean my house as a baby gift.  It was the most uncomfortably wonderful day!  I didn’t know what to do with myself, and I understood why the doctor whose house I used to clean would leave every time I was supposed to be there.

But now having a nanny  in my home on a regular basis is becoming my new normal.

What!?  You have a nanny!?  Wow, it must be soooo nice to be on the mission field!  

Honestly, comments like that make me cringe.

It’s not so much that it downplays the sacrifice we have made to be missionaries, or that it brings up the insecurities of being a missionary but not feeling like we are sacrificing enough for the Lord.  It is because I want to be able to sit you down and tell you exactly what having help on the mission field, in Spanish, really entails, both physically and emotionally, but I’m pretty sure it would take too long to explain.

But not too long to write!

Every morning our nanny takes a three hour trip to get to our house in time to help with breakfast.  She leaves her young daughter in the care of others so she can come and watch my kids.  Just typing that out makes me feel sick.  We tell ourselves that missionaries are almost expected to hire help because it is a way we can financially help others.  We tell ourselves that they need the work, and working in a comfortable home with good pay is far better than in a chicken factory for next to nothing.  We remember how when we offered her a contract she called everyone she knew and excitedly told them that she and her child now have health insurance.  We tell ourselves that it is just for a season while I am in school and that when I am done with school, we will go back to normal.  We convince ourselves that she is actually more of a language teacher for the kids because instead of going to preschool, they are hanging out with her Spanish all day.  Oh, and it’s really good practice for me to have a Spanish speaker in my home who I need to interact with a lot.  We try to rationalize that we can’t change the economic status of Bogota and that in general, the very poor live two or three hours away from the very rich, and just about any nanny or maid or manicurist you talk to is going to have a two hour commute to get to work for those of us who live in the “safe” areas of the city….which is where they want to be working.

But then I think of her daughter.

And at the same time, while my heart aches for her and her life, training her to care for my children has been one of the most exhauting tasks I have had on the mission field so far.   You know how if you run out for a date night with your spouse and you come home and find out that your kid ate a candy bar for dinner, watched 4 hours of tv and then went to bed late,  still in his play clothes, you can kind of shrug and say, “well, it was just for one night.”?  I can’t really say that because one day of watching four hours of tv could easily become a month of watching four hours of tv a day if that issue isn’t addressed – right away.  And some things feel really petty, like, “could you please try to keep all of the puzzle pieces together in the same box?” while other issues feel like kind of a big deal like, “please don’t leave Gabriella outside alone.”  And then there are those issues that just aren’t worth bringing up, like when Jeremiah comes out wearing plaid shorts, a striped shirt and boots.  And he didn’t dress himself.  And add to the fact that it all must be conducted in Spanish – from the silly conversations to the really tough ones, make every conversaion feel  a little more…exhausting.

Another tricky aspect is that having help just doesn’t come naturally to me.  I didn’t grow up like Lady Mary Granthom in Downton Abbey.  As I mentioned before, I used to be the help!  I used to clean houses, and I used to nanny.  How is it now that I’m the one trying to give instructions and am the boss, or the “Senora?”

Which brings me to the tension I feel between employer and employee.  This isn’t like many other jobs where there are clear boundaries and lines. She is working in my home with my children – shouldn’t that naturally make her like family?  But then there are the cultural distinctions and rules that I’m not always aware of, but crossing them does come with consequences.   Even in the Spanish language there are clear distinctions between talking to someone who is familiar and someone who is distant, and we have been advised to try to talk to our help using the more distant, polite form.  This feels very unnatural to us North American Christians, but culturally here, it is what is appropriate.  Some days, we only talk about the children, while other days, like last week, it was clear that she was having such a bad day that she needed to talk and I spent much of the afternoon listening and trying to counsel her, thankful for the oportunity to minister, but uncomfortable that this might be crossing some cultural employer/employee line.

My personality doesn’t naturally give over control easily, especially in regards to my children.  I have really had to wrestle in my soul and with the Lord to help me give up what used to be my decisions each day, such as what they wear or eat.  It is hard to hear my kids laughing downstairs with someone other than Nathaniel or me, knowing that with laughter comes bonding…with another woman.  I want to be the one teaching my kids.  I want to be the one taking them to the park.  I would love it if instead of the nannies getting together with our children, us moms could do that.  This has been an ongoing process for me.  Some days are better than others, and some days I really struggle.

I entered a whole new world when I got on the field and hired a nanny.  Sometimes I wonder if they should train us as missionaries on how to have help, since it is such a significant part of our daily lives, and not always an easy one. But I always know that this is a necessary part of my journey in missions because with out a nanny, I cannot go to school.  Without school I cannot learn Spanish, and with out Spanish, I cannot do missions. Having a nanny is not always easy or ideal, but when I hear my children’s tiny voices speaking in Spanish and giggling downstairs as I study, I am reminded that it is certainly an uncomfortably wonderful part of our daily lives, and we are incredibly thankful for her and what she means to our family.

I forgot all of that because most days, I really actually forget it. I don’t know if life here is starting to feel “normal” or what, but the longer I am here, the more I see how different life is from the States, but also how similar it is.

Before arriving on the field, I pictured needing to go to an open air market every day for my groceries and negociating prices in a language that I didn’t understand. Before coming, I pictured our house to be made of adobe and to have inconsistant plumbing and electricity. I didn’t expect to be able to jump online easily, and certainly didn’t think I’d be able to keep up with my favorite shows. I didn’t expect to be able to buy new clothes, or even go to a mall. I didn’t think we’d be able to go out to eat very often, buy chips and m&m’s and icecream, and have penut butter and jelly almost every day for lunch. I pictured riding in taxis all the time, or walking wherever we go, I never thought we’d see movies in a theater, and I did not expect that I’d be able to have a baby so…Americanly here.

Those were all things I expected “real missionaries” to have to give up, but the longer we are here, the more I see that so many of the day in and day out things, especially that I encounter as the wife and mom, are very recognizable and similar to my old life.

I still shop once a week at an actual supermarket, and I go to different ones based on what is on my list, how expensive those things are, and how much time I have that day. The only difference is that Nathaniel drives me, it becomes more of a planned event, and we have a nanny to watch this kids while we are gone. Annnd, sometimes I come home with a completely different thing than I thought I was buying because I misread the label.

We have a lovely new home. And we have our furniture from the states now so it feels even more lovely and more home-y. And the ONE afternoon when the power went out, I asked my Colombian friend if it would be a few days before it turned back on. She looked at me like I was crazy and said, “maybe a few hours at the most.” And she was right.

We have internet. And I give major props to those missionaries who went before us without internet. I can call my mom like I’m calling her from the States, I watch my favorite shows the next day without problems (unless everyone and their mom is posting Downton Abbey spoilers on facebook), and sometimes our internet feels faster than it did at “home.” Sometimes.

There are more malls in our general vicinity than in the entire city of Chattanooga. Colombians love malls. And the one across the street from us is getting a GAP! An actual GAP! We recently walked over for a date night to see Les Mis, in a theater, in English!

Our special American treats aren’t that hard to find, save a few things that wonderful people have been able to send us a spoil us with. And there are a few brands of icecream here that are far yummier than the ones in the States. Which is great for this preggers.

I almost never ever take a taxi, and almost never ever walk further than across the street. I may not be able to drive our car, but that’s mostly because it’s a stick, and I seriously don’t mind being chauffered by Nathaniel wherever we go. And he’s a real sport to take me where I need to be.

And so far, things feel very similar to how they were with the other two State-side pregnancies, and our experiences in the hospitals here aren’t so different either. Well, if you can communicate with the nurses. I guess we’ll see how the actual delivery compares. I also never had Nathaniel accompany me to the one hour gluclose test, but this time he had to bring me. That’s fine though, he was sweet about it and cheered me on as I choked down that syrup (which was green here, by the way. Like Shrek green. But, I digress).

Anyways, I say all of this because it has hit me recently how yes, we are on the mission field and we have this whole crazy cultural difference, and driving around feels like a heroic feat everytime we get in the car, but there is just so much that is the same. I leave the house about as often as I did in the States, I still have to run our home and grocery shop and cook and clean and worry that our kids are growing well and are healthy and are emotionally stable. I still wonder what’s going to happen next week on the Bachelor and keep up with most news from the States. (except for the Harlem Shake. Honestly, what is that??) We go to church every week and out for dinner after and have friends over for meals and fellowship and our kids play in parks. I’m not saying life is easy, because no where is life easy, but I am saying that it is good, and at times it is familiar. And I hope that if we are living in a situation where we don’t have these things, and I don’t recognize my life anymore I can still say life is good, but for now we are enjoying what we have and how there are days and moments where I actually forget that around this time last year our lives were turned upside down as we boarded a plane with 30 pieces of luggage and a small knowledge of what we were getting ourselves into and began this journey of missions.

And I’m guessing that life will continue to feel more and more familiar and more and more strange at the same time, and as we stumble through this new culture of Latin America we can be a testimony of doing so with graciousness and love and a contentment in life that only the Lord can bring us. And for now, I’ll eat my yummy icecream and contently stay in the dark about that Harlem Shaking whatever and never ever check facebook the night of a Downton Abbey season finale again.