8 - Team

It was late October and I was still constantly fighting homesickness and fear. It was a strange dichotomy of loving being in the West Bank and spending time with my coworkers, while at the same time missing my family and home so much. I loved my life and hated my life simultaneously.

My teammates and I would pray together some, but we were all fighting our own personal battles. I was living with two other single girls and we were all very different from each other.  We didn’t know each other at all and were suddenly thrust into a new world together. Overnight, we were expected to be roommates, teammates, friends, and family.  With different personalities and different backgrounds, our friendships were strained.  On top of that, we didn’t have any other friends. It was just the three of us. We couldn’t run to other friends who “understood us” for relief. We were together all day, everyday.  For the majority of that year, we were all we had and I’m pretty positive we would have all chosen different people at the time. 

We couldn’t see past ourselves and fight for each other. We all had our own fears, doubts, insecurities, and battles that caused more conflict with each other than they did draw us together. 

So, we all fought alone. 

My homesickness and fear didn’t have any room to handle their culture shock and insecurities - and vise versa.  

While working closely with a team overseas, everyone sees the worst parts of each other so blatantly.  Some days, you just don’t like each other.  You are not only working with different people that you didn’t choose - you’re working with different people, who you didn’t choose, in a different culture, where you are all under constant pressure and stress. Without compassion, vulnerability, and solid conflict resolution, it’s a recipe for disaster.  Any buffer you had of politeness or common courtesy is gone - your time and energy are spent on other things all. day. long. 

On top of that, you’re living in a fish bowl. My white pasty skin and blonde hair made me an object of attention everywhere I went. Being constantly looked at causes you to think about everything you are doing everyday. Was I supposed to accept that last cup of coffee or not? Was it rude that I didn’t take the third cookie I was offered? Did I accidentally show the bottom of my foot to someone? Did I pronounce that correctly? I didn’t mean to stare at that guy, does he think I’m promiscuous now? Should I roll down my cuffed jeans to cover my ankles in this part of town? I know a taxi shouldn't be that much, but I don’t know enough Arabic to tell him that. 

All day, everyday, these questions roll through your head and it begins to wear on you. As time goes on, they become easier to answer but you never lose the feeling of being watched. It’s stressful and you don’t have your family or friends to process it with. Instead, you have a team of people that you just lost your temper with 3 hours ago. If you can’t push through the challenges of being a part of a broken team of coworkers, you're left feeling really lonely.  I think our whole team was left feeling really lonely that year.

Without a healthy team to run to for prayer and community, I was alone and confused by this new world I was living in. A world where horrific things happen and kids don’t grow up in safety. A place where war and anxiety are the norm. 

My worldview was being shattered and I didn’t know what to do with that or who to talk to about it.  What does this new perspective do to my view of America and the West? of myself? of the Church? and of God? I had so many questions and no one to process them with. I was becoming more and more confused and hurt as I continued to live in this tense place. 

_______

Written December 2014

All the glamor you have in your head about living overseas...take it off.

Sure, I have cool pictures and I have cool “God stories” but those pictures and stories do not outweigh the pain and spiritual warfare I have endured this year. What out weights them is knowing that God has said, “I want you here.” I will endure pain and spiritual warfare for that, but not for cool pictures and stories. It’s not worth it. 

Counting the cost is real. 

What is worth it?

What is worth moving over 6000 miles away from your family and best friends?

What is worth moving into a war?

What is worth being lonely because no one understands you?

What is worth being stared at all the time?

What is worth working with other global workers you don’t get along with and you have no other friends?

What is worth enduring real anxiety, fear of death, paranoia, and homesickness?

Cool pictures and a few God stories?

Never. 

Those will never be worth it.

The only thing that makes it worth it is knowing God has said, “I want you here.”