I’ve been reading this lady’s blog for about an hour this evening:

http://www.theveryworstmissionary.com

She challenges missionaries to be real. To not strive to be what she calls: “sexy missionaries” which is a little weird to me but I get her point. She is calling out missionaries to not paint pictures with their reports and newsletters and facebook statuses that aren’t reality. Say it like it is, is her advice. I definitely feel this pressure to live up to expectations I believe people have for missionaries living on support. I have dealt with disappointment, myself, that I didn’t step off the plane onto Guatemala soil immediately feeling like Mother Teresa. I so thought I would. But I am realizing the life of a missionary doesn’t always feel like saving the world.

So here’s me being real…

Sometimes being a missionary feels like relief that your house feels like your refuge, your home, your safe place. Something that you were afraid before arriving would never happen in another country.

Sometimes being a missionary feels like anxiety when you know you need to make yourself talk with people but at the same time you know you’re going to make a mistake EVERY TIME you open your mouth.

Sometimes being a missionary feels like amazement when you realize you actually LIVE in the most beautiful place you’ve ever seen.

Sometimes being a missionary feels like loneliness when you have a good friend come visit and you realize you forgot how wonderful it is to have conversations with close girlfriends…and then she goes back home.

Sometimes it feels like guilt when you go to McDonalds twice in one week and wonder if people back home would say you should be spending your support money eating something much cheaper like beans and tortillas.

Sometimes being a missionary feels like seeing God’s glory when you see a tiny lady that appears to be in her 90′s sitting on the corner of the street and you smile at her and she breaks into the biggest, toothless smile you’ve ever seen and you think to yourself, “I have NEVER seen anything more beautiful.

Sometimes being a missionary feels like depression when you remember how you used to be able to get in the car and drive wherever you wanted to go and now you feel scared spittless to go any farther than a couple of blocks down the road. What if the car breaks down? What if I get lost? What if I get pulled over by the police? What if there’s an earthquake? What if I hit a pedestrian, or a tuk tuk, or a motorcycle, or what if a chicken bus runs into me?

Sometimes it feels like amazement when you see how perfectly your husband is fitting into his new position and how passionate he is about his new job.

Sometimes it feels like frustration when one of your children is so nervous in this new place that he starts doing weird things like grabbing your arm and sucking on it any time you’re out in public.

Sometimes it feels like sheer happiness when you have a 2 minute conversation in Spanish with the guy that guards the door of your complex, and you see in his eyes that he’s proud of your progress and that he feels happy that you have been brave enough to stop and talk and to him.

Sometimes it feels a little bit like bitterness when you realize how hard your husband is going to work and how many hours he will put in, and yet you have to think every second about how the money you have is support and not “earned.”

Sometimes it feels like sheer gratitude when you see that support roll in every month and know that with that support comes people that are praying for you and loving you from afar. It is humbling and beautiful even though it is hard.

Sometimes it feels like confusion when you wonder if as a mom and wife what your role needs to be? How much do you throw yourself into the ministry and how much do you be the stay at home wife and mom you’ve always been? Either way it feels a little bit wrong.

Sometimes it just feels worth it when in the darkness of the night when everyone is asleep and you’re wrestling with all of these emotions Jesus whispers to your heart and tells you that you are exactly where He wants you to be and that He has you here for His purposes and while you are here He will bless you and strengthen you and see you through the difficult times.

This week will make three months for us. Three months down and at least 45 more months to go. Struggling with my emotions, and with expectations, and with my role in this season is just beginning. I pray that God uses this struggling to mature me. To make me more compassionate, to make me a better listener of His voice, and a quicker obeyer of what I hear. I want to be real to those that are following our journey. Yes I want to be inspiring but not if it means I have to be fake or polish what I say to look “nobler.” Maybe one day I’ll be Mother Teresa but probably not. I’m thinking I’ll always just be Christina, and while I’m Christina in Guatemala I will soak up the mountains and the temps in the 70′s and the teenagers we get to spend time with, and the staff we get to work with, and the locals we build relationships with, and yep I’m afraid I’ll keep soaking in the McDonalds.

It’s the whole picture…the good and the difficult that makes life beautiful.

Soak in YOUR life even the struggles. Write them down and read them over and pray over them and ponder them until you find it…the BEAUTIFUL in the struggle. Because it’s there.

Photos by our friend and fellow staff Randy Braun.