“That’s sicc- double c” refers to something that is awesome or cool. Regular old s-i-c-k refers to illness. Not cool or awesome.
Welcome to day five. Day five of exhaustion, off and on fevers, cold sweats, diarrhea, the works. Not only does it suck to be sick, it sucks to be sick so far from my home. Every bone in my body wants to snuggle in next to my mommy, drifting in and out of sleep while watching one of our favorite movies. And I can’t. I’m two thousand five hundred eighty seven miles away. That makes it hard to snuggle or have chicken noodle soup or a bubble bath or my bed or my puppy or my sometimes annoying brothers or my mom. So on top of being sick in a third world country comes this wretched heart wrenching sadness that makes you want to cry until you get to see home in 103 days, 1 hour, 45 minutes and a never ending amount of seconds. Where And I feel isolated and lonely so that just adds to feeling sad. And part of me wants my snuggles, but I’m alone. So I’m sick and alone. Sick by myself. It sucks. And on top of those crap piles, there’s a team of 42 here from various countries and I can’t do anything!
These feel like the most unimportant things to write about, but if you’re going onto the mission field, prepare yourself- it’s not all rainbows and the voice of God. Sometimes you feel like you can’t hear Him at all. That’s hard. I know I came here because I heard Him but then He seemed to disappear. I know He’s there. I know He doesn’t leave or forsake me, but when He’s not telling me whether I should turn left or right, I feel like He’s gone. I know He’s still here, otherwise I would’ve already gone home. I couldn’t stand up without Him. But I don’t feel Him and that’s really hard. So prepare for that.
I’m gluten-free. Or I try to be. Sometimes a piece of cake or French bread is really enticing. I don’t have celiac, but I have an intolerance that causes tummy pains, loss of pigment and bumps on my skin. When I’m sick, my go to is always a piece of toast. I guess bland foods in general. But I don’t know where in the foreign land to find that. So what have I been eating for four days straight? Rice. Plain, white rice. Get used to that. Different food. Don’t get me wrong, I love food here, especially the fruit and veggies BUT I’m tired of rice. Plain, boring, white rice.
I guess that’s all my tired brain can think of. Hopefully my thoughts are coherent enough to comprehend.
ps. I’m really enjoying the iBook Rend Collective recently released called Campfire Stories. I highly recommend it. It’s also the photo for this piece and yeah, go and read about authentic & cool worship my pals.
Until later, peace out Girl Scout.
4 thoughts on “this is sick.”
Rooting for you Mags and praying you hear him in little and big ways every day to keep you going. Don’t let the 103 days disappear too fast. When you look back you will realize it really went in a flash. Feel better soon girl. And send me your address please!!
God hears your cries! Your tears are precious to Him. He’s listening to you, that’s why He’s not speaking. He’s a great listener, director, comforter, healer, protector, provider, and so on! I am encouraged by your willingness to endure these challenges for a greater cause! Praying with you through this season in your life, knowing in due time, this illness shall pass. Be encouraged knowing you are encouraging others to step out of their comfort zone to help others!
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Hi Maggie. This is 3 days later and I trust your rice-only-fast is past. I know what you mean about those “silent times”. I have discovered that our relating with God is not so different from our relating with each other. There is a kind of “breathing” in all relationships where there is a time of close connection, and then there is a period of solitude. Then a time of closeness and then a time of solitude. Like the swing of the seasons here in the Midwest, I appreciate the relational closeness that much more for having endured the solitude in between. As much as I think I would like uninterrupted intimacy, the rhythm of relationship keeps me awake and on my knees, taking nothing for granted, savoring all I receive.
Thank you for expressing your heart so freely and clearly. You are a “glory lantern” throwing the light of heaven over great distances and in every possible direction. Love you.
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Thank you so much Peter! Much love!