Relational Obstacles
This month as I've continued pondering what it means to find your people, I've also noticed more the kinds of things that sometimes deter us from finding healthy relationships with the right people. Some of the reasons are emotional culprits that I think can apply across the board in many cases, and many of those are highlighted in a book I've started reading, Changes That Heal, by Dr. Henry Cloud. Though I'm only a few chapters in, many of the concepts he expresses I see manifested in the people who surround me and within myself.
I live in a country that has a very young population. While the US is trying to figure out what to do with a growing elderly population, the current average age in Honduras is 23, and that number is higher than it once was. In a country with many people still very young and a country where people often have children at a young age, there are a lot of perpetuating cycles in terms of grandparents raising children, parents never having had a positive parenting example, and young people having to care for their children far before they've ever dealt with their own traumatic childhood experiences. That is not the case for everyone--don't get me wrong. I know a vast number of Hondurans who love their children so well and fight to provide for them and who strive to give them a godly example. But, even a lot of those people started from a place of having to learn not from good parental examples but from church community and guidance from the Holy Spirit. This can be said about a large population in the US and elsewhere as well. In addition to this aspect of Honduran life, it should be noted that Honduras has a warm culture. They are generally very hospitable, eager to interact, and inclusive (to a point that is comfortable for them). There is much more neighborly interaction in Honduras than I would say there is generally in the US. But, while there is warmth and care, there isn't always a lot of depth. And, I would say that is a statement that can be made about a lot of humanity throughout the world.
As a disclaimer, I'm an introvert and someone who craves depth. I like to get to the root of an issue. I like to connect with someone on an emotional or spiritual level much more than I will ever get enthused about talking about the weather, a TV show, or grocery shopping. And, I love counseling. And within counseling, there is a concept called bonding. It's the ability to be able to establish, develop, and maintain an emotional connection or attachment to another person, and it begins as an infant through a parent's attentive touch and comfort. As I read Changes That Heal and about the importance of bonding, I think about so many people in my life here who didn't have many of the positive bonding experiences that are so vital to being able to develop relationships that fulfill our needs for love later in life. That lack of bonding can lead to depression because of intense loneliness. It can lead to overworking oneself to try to drum up a sense of meaning in life. It can lead to drug addiction as the person tries to fill the need for love with some other substitute. It can lead to a fear of getting emotionally close to someone because of past trauma. It can lead to "excessive caretaking" where the person gives and gives and gives because they need relationship but don't know how to receive from others; they fear that when they stop giving, the other person will just abandon them. It can lead to promiscuity and sexual confusion as the person desperately seeks love but has to settle for a temporary feeling of physical connection. And, it can cause anger when that need isn't met and a drive to search for a place to belong--something that I believe is often a force in young people becoming gang members.
When someone has gone their whole life without a stable, loving set of people to show them what reliable relationships look like, often that individual will begin to believe, because of survivor mode, that they don't have the need for relationships. They may be friendly and interact and make jokes and even be hospitable, but their heart can be totally shut off to others. And those people are not likely to take initiative to find relationships. Those who have suffered trauma in relationships or suffered the pain of parental indifference can begin to believe lies about themselves and their own worth. And, based on their own beliefs about themselves, when others do approach them with the offer of healthy relationships, often they reject the offer either due to the belief that they don't deserve love or for fear that the person will do them harm as someone in their past has done. All of this, sadly, also affects how people view God. If you have received human rejection long enough, it doesn't become too far-fetched to convince yourself that God also rejects you (even though that isn't true).
When I was growing up, I had great bonding experiences. My family to this day is a bedrock for me. My siblings and I talk often. My parents are my biggest supporters and are always still looking out for me. And throughout a childhood and adolescence with tumultuous friendships, my family was my constant. Once I moved to Honduras, I was far away from that constant--still in contact, still supported, but not able to receive their love in the same way as I would if I were in close proximity. That was very hard for me, but I've said it numerous times that there is no way I would've survived the intense seasons of loneliness I've been through here if it weren't for how my family had already constructed my views of myself, God, and others through bonding. But, over the years, living in Honduras, it has still been hard to develop lasting, deep relationships. And, I have struggled with feeling empty or like I'm fumbling for a sense of meaning when the relationships I've painstakingly been investing in get snatched away unexpectedly. I have been the excessive caretaker before always giving because I know that the state of the person's presence in my life depends on how much I give. And, sure enough, when I've tired and stopped, often, those people decide to make their exit because it was a relationship of convenience for them. I have struggled with the lies that something about me is off-putting or feeling like God made me for rejection even as I have known in my head that that is a lie. I have struggled with feeling like I'm not allowed to have needs because I'll be abandoned if I do. And I've wrestled distrust of others due to past wounds. I know what it's like to desperately need connection and love and to be understood but at the same time cutting yourself off from others because you don't think you can take any more hurt, betrayal, or disappointment.
While I don't think I'd willingly enter any of those seasons again, I will be the first to say that having passed through them, I have a much better understanding of those who didn't have the upbringing that I did. And, knowing what I know now, I better understand why it can be so hard to develop lasting relationships with Hondurans even as they are the very reason that I am here apart from the call of God. I am speaking in generalizations here, so bear with me in understanding that these statements don't apply to every individual. But, interacting and developing relationships with Hondurans can be a challenge for many reasons. Here are just a few that come to mind--
1) Difference of culture. I have heard various missionary and North American ex-pat friends make the statement that it is so hard to develop friendships with Hondurans because Hondurans don't plan coffee dates or take initiative. I think that's only partially true and depends greatly on the amount of previous interaction with North Americans any Honduran has had. In general, hospitality is more spontaneous than planned in Honduras. It's incredibly common for guests to just drop by without any notice and expect you to drop everything and attend to them. Within North American culture, that is rude and inconsiderate. But, it's normal here. And, every time I've ever just dropped in (usually at Raúl's insistence) on a Honduran friend, they (the person and usually their whole family) have been overjoyed, visited with us attentively, and days after sent messages or called us to tell us that we need to drop by more often. For most North Americans, it is wildly uncomfortable to just drop in on someone like that, but for Hondurans, it seems to be more comfortable in some ways. And, I can say that while we North Americans like to plan our hospitality usually because we want to entertain exceptionally well, planning meals and accommodations and entertainment ahead of time, I can see where the dropping-by method can be more authentic and personal.
Another tricky aspect of culture is the concept of inviting someone. Within Honduran and a lot of other Latin American cultures, if you invite someone to do something with you, the assumption will be that you are covering the costs. In North American culture, we can say, "Hey, do you want to go see a movie?" And, it's usually understood that you should at least go prepared to pay your own way (even if the person who gave the invitation offers later). In some cases, I think Hondurans don't take initiative because of their cultural implications of that word "invite." Just as we aren't used to dropping by, they aren't used to extending an invitation without paying for everything for everyone.
And, lastly, I think sometimes it's just a concept of fear. I've had a lot of Hondurans who I've visited voice worries that I won't like their food or that they don't know what I'm used to. Hondurans like to attend to people well, but they can often feel out of their element in attending to someone from a culture they don't have much experience with, which I think is a concept we can all understand as humans.
With all of that said, I have had Hondurans make plans with me. I have had Hondurans invite me to do things or go to their home ahead of time. They may not always be the most punctual about it, but they are capable of making plans and taking initiative.
2) Socioeconomic differences. In a Sociology class in college, I can remember my professor telling us that we were likely to associate for the rest of our lives with people of similar backgrounds, socioeconomic stations, and abundance of resources. And, from a practical point of view, I totally get why he said that. Back in my college days, I felt much more comfortable hanging out with a crowd of people who were just as broke as I was, who ate in the dining hall instead of a restaurant, who could have fun at free on-campus events instead of seeking out more costly activities, who also worked part-time jobs, etc. because there was a lowered sense of economic comparison or pressure. To put it more succinctly, running with a crowd that regularly spends more money than your bank account can handle is problematic--if you try to keep up, you go into debt. If you only hang out when your cash flow allows, you become a less integral part of the group and miss out on connection.
Raúl and I are the kind of people who love to be inclusive. Any time it's possible, we enjoy providing experiences for others that they may not have been able to afford themselves. As Raúl's family struggled greatly with poverty when he was growing up, he genuinely does it because he loves being able to give something to someone else that he would have loved to have been able to experience when he was growing up. But, as much as we enjoy and believe in a lifestyle of generosity, we have encountered problematic situations when it comes to loving others well. And, it usually goes in one of two ways--either the people we regularly try to include become selfish and entitled and get angry with us whenever we can't or don't pay their way every time, or the people we regularly include start to feel bad because they economically don't have the means to contribute and stop hanging out with us because they don't want us to think that they are the kind of people to take advantage.
It's easy within the missionary world to maintain an "us and them" mentality. And, in those scenarios, the missionaries are always the givers, and the needy are always the receivers. It takes all kinds, and if that is the kind of ministry someone feels called to, I bless that person. But, to me, if the goal is real community, that isn't real community. It's so much harder to enter into real community where you give AND take, have AND need--equal playing field. At the end of the day, part of learning to love well is learning to give and receive, and if we insist on always filling one of those roles, we will miss out on the fullness of what God is trying to teach us and the people in community with us. Sometimes, it is appropriate to give a gift, an opportunity, a contribution toward a need, but sometimes, it is more appropriate for that person to learn responsibility, that generosity is the key to revival, and to not be a victim but rather a son or daughter of God who has equal right with us to petition God for their needs. Raúl and I are continuously learning what it means to walk the tightrope between "if we have an abundance of resources we can provide better opportunities and for more people" and "if we live too far from the lifestyle of those we want to do community with, we will ostracize the very people we want to love well." It's an ongoing process, and I can't say that we're always going to do it well, but it is a balance we desire to have.
3) Bonding issues. Looking back on past friendships that haven't lasted, once I've exited the fog of "what's wrong with me, I can't trust anyone, etc.," I can better look back with fresh eyes to see that sometimes the problem was my lack of boundaries. I fell into an excessive caretaker mode. I gave not from a motive of joy and God's leading but from a place of wanting human approval. And, I wore myself out then blamed the person for taking advantage of me. I can also better look back to see that perhaps I did everything within my power to maintain the relationship but that person rejected me because of fears from past injuries and past experiences. That person rejected me because I was trying to invite them to be a real person with needs, and they're afraid to have and express their needs. And other similar situations.
Speaking from the point of view of my own relationship with my husband, I can say that it can be very hard to negotiate a healthy relationship between two people who had vastly different bonding experiences, and it will always require patience, healthy boundaries, and a dedication to persevere in Jesus' love. But, it's not impossible, and I think in many cases, that actually is the Gospel. In many of the relationships I've had with some of my kids, I can see how bonding with me has invited them to understand how a healthy relationship should look even if they never had that before. I was so blessed the other day when Josuan looked at me and said, "Mami, I want to marry someone who treats me like you treat Raúl, who sees the value in my life that God placed there, like you've seen in me, even when others don't."
One final note I'll make is something that has been said by various other people before: Comparison is the enemy of connection. When I first moved to Honduras, I was involved in a ministry that was fully immersed in Honduran culture. Their every day diet and language and time reflected brightly a closeness to the Honduran people and culture. They were not people who were trying to live a North American lifestyle in another country. So, that was how I developed my own mindset as to how missions should look. The people I most closely associated with in ministry there didn't have any close connection to other North American missionaries or the ex-pat community. And, the ones in the ministry who did maintain a close connection with the North American community often seemed to struggle with language or ended up returning back to their passport country before expected. So, I determined that because I was in it for the long haul, I needed to fully immerse myself in Honduran everything and keep my distance from the North American community. I honestly don't regret doing this because I don't think I would've learned all that I've learned or would've married a Honduran if I hadn't been so submerged in Honduran life. But, thankfully, seasons also change, and my way of thinking evolves. Now, I do have involvement with other North American missionaries, and I love it. Relationship with those people, their understanding, and their compassion came as a vital lifeline to me, and I wouldn't want to continue as a missionary without it now. I am grateful to say that the ladies Bible study I attend is a rare atmosphere of mutual respect. There are people from all different denominations, kinds of ministries, different lifestyles, etc. in that one group, but there is a compassionate grace present among us.
Within the missionary community, I think it is so easy to get sucked up into comparison. I'm sure it seems ridiculous to an outsider as a lot of times missionaries are unnecessarily put on pedestals, but it happens in subtle ways like:
There are missionaries who skillfully spend a year making a budget and fundraising to reach that budget and there are missionaries who buy their one-way plane ticket and never fund raise but still live as missionaries by God's divine provision.
There are missionaries who drive cars with airbags and have health insurance and missionaries who take public transportation and get treated at public hospitals.
There are missionaries who live in gated residential communities with running hot water and missionaries who live in the midst of gang territory and wash their clothes by hand.
There are missionaries who speak the language proficiently and missionaries who learn enough to get by and make it work.
There are missionaries who work with prisoners, criminals, gang members, and other populations that society generally shies away from and there are missionaries who wouldn't set foot in the neighborhoods where those kinds of people live and congregate because murders happen there often.
There are missionaries who eat basically the same as they did in their passport country and missionaries who only eat what the locals eat.
There are missionaries who go back to their passport country several times a year and missionaries who haven't been to their passport country in years.
I could go on and on because missionaries go across the spectrum, and it's not a spectrum of good and bad or who is doing it right and who is doing it wrong (because as a book I recently read stated, when you become a missionary, you're just being you somewhere else.) It is merely a spectrum of the differing graces and talents God gives to each person, and God knows what He is asking of every person individually. What He is asking of me is different than what He is asking of someone else, and that's okay. Not every missionary has to or should look the same just as not every ministry, church or pastor has to look the same. Often, I think we have fallen into the trap of feeling like numbers dictate God's approval--the more people I impact in my ministry, the more successful I am as a missionary. The more money a missionary can fund raise, the more favor God has placed in that person's life. Those are juvenile ways of looking at the Kingdom, and they don't reflect God's heart. Sometimes, it is not about the numbers, it's about the extremes. The more danger a missionary is in, the more a missionary denies himself/herself comforts in life, the more restricted a location is to the Gospel the more authentic of a missionary the person is. That is also a lie. At the end of the day, the questions are the same as it is for any Christian anywhere--Am I being obedient to what God has asked me to do? Am I stewarding well the resources God has placed in my life? Am I pursuing intimacy with God, and is that intimacy leading me to make the right decisions for who God has called me to be?
It says in James 4:17, "So any person who knows what is right to do but does not do it, to him it is sin." The key to that verse, I think, is "to him." The Bible is not explicit about whether we need to own cars or take public transportation. There is no "Thou shalt only eat what the locals eat" commandment. The Sermon on the Mount does not talk about how many times you should travel back to your passport country in a year. All of those things fall into knowing what is right to do based on relationship and intimacy with the Father. Those are personal choices to make based on what God is personally asking of each of us, but sadly, those kinds of differences and the comparison of those differences can often serve as a trap from the enemy to keep us from connecting with missionaries whose lifestyle choices differ from ours. Sometimes we don't find our people or even the people who could help us take steps of maturity or steps closer toward our calling because they live or do ministry in a way that is different than us or different than how we believe they should. And, those of you who are not missionaries, I'm sure that you can apply elements of this concept to your own life as well. As Kris Vallotton has said recently, the world will know us especially in this season by how lovingly and respectfully we can disagree with one another. If we want to be mature enough and prepared for when God places "our people" in our path, we can start by loving, respecting, and fighting for every person, no matter how different from us, who enters our lives.
I live in a country that has a very young population. While the US is trying to figure out what to do with a growing elderly population, the current average age in Honduras is 23, and that number is higher than it once was. In a country with many people still very young and a country where people often have children at a young age, there are a lot of perpetuating cycles in terms of grandparents raising children, parents never having had a positive parenting example, and young people having to care for their children far before they've ever dealt with their own traumatic childhood experiences. That is not the case for everyone--don't get me wrong. I know a vast number of Hondurans who love their children so well and fight to provide for them and who strive to give them a godly example. But, even a lot of those people started from a place of having to learn not from good parental examples but from church community and guidance from the Holy Spirit. This can be said about a large population in the US and elsewhere as well. In addition to this aspect of Honduran life, it should be noted that Honduras has a warm culture. They are generally very hospitable, eager to interact, and inclusive (to a point that is comfortable for them). There is much more neighborly interaction in Honduras than I would say there is generally in the US. But, while there is warmth and care, there isn't always a lot of depth. And, I would say that is a statement that can be made about a lot of humanity throughout the world.
As a disclaimer, I'm an introvert and someone who craves depth. I like to get to the root of an issue. I like to connect with someone on an emotional or spiritual level much more than I will ever get enthused about talking about the weather, a TV show, or grocery shopping. And, I love counseling. And within counseling, there is a concept called bonding. It's the ability to be able to establish, develop, and maintain an emotional connection or attachment to another person, and it begins as an infant through a parent's attentive touch and comfort. As I read Changes That Heal and about the importance of bonding, I think about so many people in my life here who didn't have many of the positive bonding experiences that are so vital to being able to develop relationships that fulfill our needs for love later in life. That lack of bonding can lead to depression because of intense loneliness. It can lead to overworking oneself to try to drum up a sense of meaning in life. It can lead to drug addiction as the person tries to fill the need for love with some other substitute. It can lead to a fear of getting emotionally close to someone because of past trauma. It can lead to "excessive caretaking" where the person gives and gives and gives because they need relationship but don't know how to receive from others; they fear that when they stop giving, the other person will just abandon them. It can lead to promiscuity and sexual confusion as the person desperately seeks love but has to settle for a temporary feeling of physical connection. And, it can cause anger when that need isn't met and a drive to search for a place to belong--something that I believe is often a force in young people becoming gang members.
When someone has gone their whole life without a stable, loving set of people to show them what reliable relationships look like, often that individual will begin to believe, because of survivor mode, that they don't have the need for relationships. They may be friendly and interact and make jokes and even be hospitable, but their heart can be totally shut off to others. And those people are not likely to take initiative to find relationships. Those who have suffered trauma in relationships or suffered the pain of parental indifference can begin to believe lies about themselves and their own worth. And, based on their own beliefs about themselves, when others do approach them with the offer of healthy relationships, often they reject the offer either due to the belief that they don't deserve love or for fear that the person will do them harm as someone in their past has done. All of this, sadly, also affects how people view God. If you have received human rejection long enough, it doesn't become too far-fetched to convince yourself that God also rejects you (even though that isn't true).
When I was growing up, I had great bonding experiences. My family to this day is a bedrock for me. My siblings and I talk often. My parents are my biggest supporters and are always still looking out for me. And throughout a childhood and adolescence with tumultuous friendships, my family was my constant. Once I moved to Honduras, I was far away from that constant--still in contact, still supported, but not able to receive their love in the same way as I would if I were in close proximity. That was very hard for me, but I've said it numerous times that there is no way I would've survived the intense seasons of loneliness I've been through here if it weren't for how my family had already constructed my views of myself, God, and others through bonding. But, over the years, living in Honduras, it has still been hard to develop lasting, deep relationships. And, I have struggled with feeling empty or like I'm fumbling for a sense of meaning when the relationships I've painstakingly been investing in get snatched away unexpectedly. I have been the excessive caretaker before always giving because I know that the state of the person's presence in my life depends on how much I give. And, sure enough, when I've tired and stopped, often, those people decide to make their exit because it was a relationship of convenience for them. I have struggled with the lies that something about me is off-putting or feeling like God made me for rejection even as I have known in my head that that is a lie. I have struggled with feeling like I'm not allowed to have needs because I'll be abandoned if I do. And I've wrestled distrust of others due to past wounds. I know what it's like to desperately need connection and love and to be understood but at the same time cutting yourself off from others because you don't think you can take any more hurt, betrayal, or disappointment.
While I don't think I'd willingly enter any of those seasons again, I will be the first to say that having passed through them, I have a much better understanding of those who didn't have the upbringing that I did. And, knowing what I know now, I better understand why it can be so hard to develop lasting relationships with Hondurans even as they are the very reason that I am here apart from the call of God. I am speaking in generalizations here, so bear with me in understanding that these statements don't apply to every individual. But, interacting and developing relationships with Hondurans can be a challenge for many reasons. Here are just a few that come to mind--
1) Difference of culture. I have heard various missionary and North American ex-pat friends make the statement that it is so hard to develop friendships with Hondurans because Hondurans don't plan coffee dates or take initiative. I think that's only partially true and depends greatly on the amount of previous interaction with North Americans any Honduran has had. In general, hospitality is more spontaneous than planned in Honduras. It's incredibly common for guests to just drop by without any notice and expect you to drop everything and attend to them. Within North American culture, that is rude and inconsiderate. But, it's normal here. And, every time I've ever just dropped in (usually at Raúl's insistence) on a Honduran friend, they (the person and usually their whole family) have been overjoyed, visited with us attentively, and days after sent messages or called us to tell us that we need to drop by more often. For most North Americans, it is wildly uncomfortable to just drop in on someone like that, but for Hondurans, it seems to be more comfortable in some ways. And, I can say that while we North Americans like to plan our hospitality usually because we want to entertain exceptionally well, planning meals and accommodations and entertainment ahead of time, I can see where the dropping-by method can be more authentic and personal.
Another tricky aspect of culture is the concept of inviting someone. Within Honduran and a lot of other Latin American cultures, if you invite someone to do something with you, the assumption will be that you are covering the costs. In North American culture, we can say, "Hey, do you want to go see a movie?" And, it's usually understood that you should at least go prepared to pay your own way (even if the person who gave the invitation offers later). In some cases, I think Hondurans don't take initiative because of their cultural implications of that word "invite." Just as we aren't used to dropping by, they aren't used to extending an invitation without paying for everything for everyone.
And, lastly, I think sometimes it's just a concept of fear. I've had a lot of Hondurans who I've visited voice worries that I won't like their food or that they don't know what I'm used to. Hondurans like to attend to people well, but they can often feel out of their element in attending to someone from a culture they don't have much experience with, which I think is a concept we can all understand as humans.
With all of that said, I have had Hondurans make plans with me. I have had Hondurans invite me to do things or go to their home ahead of time. They may not always be the most punctual about it, but they are capable of making plans and taking initiative.
2) Socioeconomic differences. In a Sociology class in college, I can remember my professor telling us that we were likely to associate for the rest of our lives with people of similar backgrounds, socioeconomic stations, and abundance of resources. And, from a practical point of view, I totally get why he said that. Back in my college days, I felt much more comfortable hanging out with a crowd of people who were just as broke as I was, who ate in the dining hall instead of a restaurant, who could have fun at free on-campus events instead of seeking out more costly activities, who also worked part-time jobs, etc. because there was a lowered sense of economic comparison or pressure. To put it more succinctly, running with a crowd that regularly spends more money than your bank account can handle is problematic--if you try to keep up, you go into debt. If you only hang out when your cash flow allows, you become a less integral part of the group and miss out on connection.
Raúl and I are the kind of people who love to be inclusive. Any time it's possible, we enjoy providing experiences for others that they may not have been able to afford themselves. As Raúl's family struggled greatly with poverty when he was growing up, he genuinely does it because he loves being able to give something to someone else that he would have loved to have been able to experience when he was growing up. But, as much as we enjoy and believe in a lifestyle of generosity, we have encountered problematic situations when it comes to loving others well. And, it usually goes in one of two ways--either the people we regularly try to include become selfish and entitled and get angry with us whenever we can't or don't pay their way every time, or the people we regularly include start to feel bad because they economically don't have the means to contribute and stop hanging out with us because they don't want us to think that they are the kind of people to take advantage.
It's easy within the missionary world to maintain an "us and them" mentality. And, in those scenarios, the missionaries are always the givers, and the needy are always the receivers. It takes all kinds, and if that is the kind of ministry someone feels called to, I bless that person. But, to me, if the goal is real community, that isn't real community. It's so much harder to enter into real community where you give AND take, have AND need--equal playing field. At the end of the day, part of learning to love well is learning to give and receive, and if we insist on always filling one of those roles, we will miss out on the fullness of what God is trying to teach us and the people in community with us. Sometimes, it is appropriate to give a gift, an opportunity, a contribution toward a need, but sometimes, it is more appropriate for that person to learn responsibility, that generosity is the key to revival, and to not be a victim but rather a son or daughter of God who has equal right with us to petition God for their needs. Raúl and I are continuously learning what it means to walk the tightrope between "if we have an abundance of resources we can provide better opportunities and for more people" and "if we live too far from the lifestyle of those we want to do community with, we will ostracize the very people we want to love well." It's an ongoing process, and I can't say that we're always going to do it well, but it is a balance we desire to have.
3) Bonding issues. Looking back on past friendships that haven't lasted, once I've exited the fog of "what's wrong with me, I can't trust anyone, etc.," I can better look back with fresh eyes to see that sometimes the problem was my lack of boundaries. I fell into an excessive caretaker mode. I gave not from a motive of joy and God's leading but from a place of wanting human approval. And, I wore myself out then blamed the person for taking advantage of me. I can also better look back to see that perhaps I did everything within my power to maintain the relationship but that person rejected me because of fears from past injuries and past experiences. That person rejected me because I was trying to invite them to be a real person with needs, and they're afraid to have and express their needs. And other similar situations.
Speaking from the point of view of my own relationship with my husband, I can say that it can be very hard to negotiate a healthy relationship between two people who had vastly different bonding experiences, and it will always require patience, healthy boundaries, and a dedication to persevere in Jesus' love. But, it's not impossible, and I think in many cases, that actually is the Gospel. In many of the relationships I've had with some of my kids, I can see how bonding with me has invited them to understand how a healthy relationship should look even if they never had that before. I was so blessed the other day when Josuan looked at me and said, "Mami, I want to marry someone who treats me like you treat Raúl, who sees the value in my life that God placed there, like you've seen in me, even when others don't."
One final note I'll make is something that has been said by various other people before: Comparison is the enemy of connection. When I first moved to Honduras, I was involved in a ministry that was fully immersed in Honduran culture. Their every day diet and language and time reflected brightly a closeness to the Honduran people and culture. They were not people who were trying to live a North American lifestyle in another country. So, that was how I developed my own mindset as to how missions should look. The people I most closely associated with in ministry there didn't have any close connection to other North American missionaries or the ex-pat community. And, the ones in the ministry who did maintain a close connection with the North American community often seemed to struggle with language or ended up returning back to their passport country before expected. So, I determined that because I was in it for the long haul, I needed to fully immerse myself in Honduran everything and keep my distance from the North American community. I honestly don't regret doing this because I don't think I would've learned all that I've learned or would've married a Honduran if I hadn't been so submerged in Honduran life. But, thankfully, seasons also change, and my way of thinking evolves. Now, I do have involvement with other North American missionaries, and I love it. Relationship with those people, their understanding, and their compassion came as a vital lifeline to me, and I wouldn't want to continue as a missionary without it now. I am grateful to say that the ladies Bible study I attend is a rare atmosphere of mutual respect. There are people from all different denominations, kinds of ministries, different lifestyles, etc. in that one group, but there is a compassionate grace present among us.
Within the missionary community, I think it is so easy to get sucked up into comparison. I'm sure it seems ridiculous to an outsider as a lot of times missionaries are unnecessarily put on pedestals, but it happens in subtle ways like:
There are missionaries who skillfully spend a year making a budget and fundraising to reach that budget and there are missionaries who buy their one-way plane ticket and never fund raise but still live as missionaries by God's divine provision.
There are missionaries who drive cars with airbags and have health insurance and missionaries who take public transportation and get treated at public hospitals.
There are missionaries who live in gated residential communities with running hot water and missionaries who live in the midst of gang territory and wash their clothes by hand.
There are missionaries who speak the language proficiently and missionaries who learn enough to get by and make it work.
There are missionaries who work with prisoners, criminals, gang members, and other populations that society generally shies away from and there are missionaries who wouldn't set foot in the neighborhoods where those kinds of people live and congregate because murders happen there often.
There are missionaries who eat basically the same as they did in their passport country and missionaries who only eat what the locals eat.
There are missionaries who go back to their passport country several times a year and missionaries who haven't been to their passport country in years.
I could go on and on because missionaries go across the spectrum, and it's not a spectrum of good and bad or who is doing it right and who is doing it wrong (because as a book I recently read stated, when you become a missionary, you're just being you somewhere else.) It is merely a spectrum of the differing graces and talents God gives to each person, and God knows what He is asking of every person individually. What He is asking of me is different than what He is asking of someone else, and that's okay. Not every missionary has to or should look the same just as not every ministry, church or pastor has to look the same. Often, I think we have fallen into the trap of feeling like numbers dictate God's approval--the more people I impact in my ministry, the more successful I am as a missionary. The more money a missionary can fund raise, the more favor God has placed in that person's life. Those are juvenile ways of looking at the Kingdom, and they don't reflect God's heart. Sometimes, it is not about the numbers, it's about the extremes. The more danger a missionary is in, the more a missionary denies himself/herself comforts in life, the more restricted a location is to the Gospel the more authentic of a missionary the person is. That is also a lie. At the end of the day, the questions are the same as it is for any Christian anywhere--Am I being obedient to what God has asked me to do? Am I stewarding well the resources God has placed in my life? Am I pursuing intimacy with God, and is that intimacy leading me to make the right decisions for who God has called me to be?
It says in James 4:17, "So any person who knows what is right to do but does not do it, to him it is sin." The key to that verse, I think, is "to him." The Bible is not explicit about whether we need to own cars or take public transportation. There is no "Thou shalt only eat what the locals eat" commandment. The Sermon on the Mount does not talk about how many times you should travel back to your passport country in a year. All of those things fall into knowing what is right to do based on relationship and intimacy with the Father. Those are personal choices to make based on what God is personally asking of each of us, but sadly, those kinds of differences and the comparison of those differences can often serve as a trap from the enemy to keep us from connecting with missionaries whose lifestyle choices differ from ours. Sometimes we don't find our people or even the people who could help us take steps of maturity or steps closer toward our calling because they live or do ministry in a way that is different than us or different than how we believe they should. And, those of you who are not missionaries, I'm sure that you can apply elements of this concept to your own life as well. As Kris Vallotton has said recently, the world will know us especially in this season by how lovingly and respectfully we can disagree with one another. If we want to be mature enough and prepared for when God places "our people" in our path, we can start by loving, respecting, and fighting for every person, no matter how different from us, who enters our lives.
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