First Week

Coming to the end of my first week, it has been a whirlwind to say the least.  It’s like I was thrown into the deep end of the pool, expecting to know how to swim.  Okay, it’s not that bad; I can at least touch the bottom while standing on my tip-toes.

It definitely feels worse than it is.  This is my first experience living overseas, and there’s a huge difference between this and just touring/visiting on a short-term bases.  I feel as if I’ve moved here permanently, leaving everything I know and love behind.

The view over the valley while ascending Mount Kabuye

My first week: finding (still looking) a house to live in, figuring out how to navigate through a city with no street signs or names, budgeting my money in a foreign currency, eating local cuisine, eating non-local cuisine done in a local way, meeting Rwandans, meeting Americans, meeting Germans, hiking Mount Kabuye, being followed by a group of little kids who kept asking for money while hiking Mount Kabuye, talking with my boss about what my role is, talking with my boss’ son about legos, blowing the fuse in my converter, frying my surge protector... figuring out new life in a strange land.

It is a lot harder than I thought it would be.  Reflecting on this past week, I’ve been shown more areas in my life where God is at work.  It’s as if He is telling me, “This is not just another one of your adventures.  It will be hard.  This is not a vacation.  I have you here for a divine reason.  I am using you to help accomplish My goals.  There are real, evil powers at work against you so that you don’t accomplish the work I have for you.  You will feel as if there is no hope.  You will feel as if it will never end.  But, do not fear, your hope is in Me.”

A wise woman told me a quote by John A. Shedd: “A ship is safer in the harbor, but that’s not what ships are built for.”  God’s work is dangerous.  It’s a danger I never truly respected, and, therefore, for which I never truly prepared.  Yet, here I am, in the midst of not necessarily physical danger, well, not any more than the streets of Los Angeles, but of spiritual danger.  A danger that is just as real, just as pervasive, but vastly more crippling.  Here I am, a ship without a harbor in sight.