If you haven't been able to tell from my recent postings, life here over the past month has been verging on chaotic at times as everyone prepared for the move to the new church building. I've tried to do my part to help with that, but I've also still had to worry about German class; Bible studies with Horst, Sylvia, and Soyoung; my studies with Jim; working in Jim's library; and fitting in time to meet with Cornelia. That's not counting church on Sunday, ladies' Bible class on Tuesday, and Bible study on Wednesday night.
The week before last, I finally reached a breaking point.
I hadn't been sleeping well for several nights, and the feeling of being overwhelmed finally took its toll. I had my moments of tears, talked with God about it, and made a list of all the things on my schedule. I realized that I had 13 standing appointments every week. Some days started at 8 AM when I leave for German class and wouldn't end until I got home from babysitting after 11 PM. My apartment wasn't getting the attention it should have, and I wasn't getting the rest I desperately needed. I also did not feel I was adequately preparing for any of my studies (German or Bible), and I certainly was not spending enough personal time with God. Something had to give.
I decided to grade each item on my list on a 1 to 10 scale for each of three categories: how much I enjoy the activity; how important I feel it is to my work here; and how uplifting it is for me.
I took my list to Jim and discussed the situation with him. We decided that I would stop working on organizing his library until at least the end of June when my German class is finished and that after the actual moving weekend I would not work on the remodeling at the church building since I'm already babysitting so Mimi and Rüdi can attend meetings related to the work.
Our changes went into effect last week, and they really made a difference. I've had more time to rest, study, run errands, and take care of other things that have been patiently awaiting my attention.
Also, over the past week I've received quite a few letters in the mail. My parents' congregation has apparently started a letter-writing program to encourage all the missionaries they support, and I was first on the list. For all of you who have sent letters, I can't begin to describe how wonderful they were. Thanks for thinking of me and taking the time to write. Those letters are nourishment for my soul! It's easy sometimes to think that people have forgotten that you're living half a world away from family and most friends, as well as struggling to survive in a foreign culture and learning a new language, all the while attempting to make some sort of difference for God's Kingdom. My heart tells me that's not true, that people don't forget, but discouragement is a convenient exit from the mires of culture shock.
There was one day this week that put a damper on the recent progress I had been seeing and encouragement I had been feeling. I mentioned in December that the wood frame around my kitchen window broke when the painter tried to open it. Since then, this is what my window has looked like:
I've talked with my landlord several times over the past couple months, and she kept saying she wes waiting for warmer weather before getting the window fixed. She finally called me last Friday and said the carpenter would be coming on Tuesday.
Well, I waited for most of the day on Tuesday, and no one showed up. I got up Wednesday and got ready for German class, and just a few minutes before I needed to leave, my doorbell rang. I answered the door to find 2 men expecting to fix the window. Considering that I had expected them the day before and that I was about to leave, I was not too happy to see them. I let them in, though, and waited while they removed the window. They needed to take it back to their shop to repair the wood and would return in the afternoon.
By the time they carried the window out the door and I was able to leave, I had missed the bus. I waited for the next bus, which came late, and I ended up being late for class. By that point, I was in a bad mood, and comments my teacher made to the class about the U.S. government's motivations for the Iraq war pushed my last button. I was doing well not responding to him, but then he outright asked me if his comments upset me, and I responded in the affirmative. He asked me why, and I tried to explain how the way he discussed his opinions made me feel as if he was blaming me for the war since I'm the only American in the class. The teacher and the other students all negated this, but it didn't make me feel any better. (I was surprised, though, with the ease at which I can speak German when upset!)
I made it through the rest of class and came home to find that the workers had not yet returned.
I happened to look outside a while later...to see my window sitting on the sidewalk leaning against a fence. Thinking the carpenters would be right back, I waited for a while, glancing outside every few minutes to make sure my window didn't get clobbered by a passing bicycle.
An hour later, I called my landlord. She rushed over and helped me carry the window inside to the stairwell, not an easy task considering that the window is about 3 feet wide and about 5 feet tall.
After a call from my landlord, the men came back and carried the window upstairs. A bit of reconstruction was needed for the window to fit in the hinges again, but finally, at about 4:30 that afternoon, the window was back in place and operating properly. By that time, after there being a 3x5 foot hole in the wall for over 8 hours, my apartment was the host of a large number of unwelcome buzzing, winged creatures. Thankfully, though, it did not rain.
Don't get me wrong. I'm really happy that my window has been fixed. I just really could have done without the headaches of getting to this point. I suppose it's all an opportunity for personal growth, though, right?
Right?
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