I felt it again. The other day at the post office. The frustration. The irritation. "How come I can't figure life out in this country?" I mused to myself.
There was a new lady behind the desk at the letter line. She looked flustered as soon as she saw that I was mailing something oversees. It was a different size...a little bigger than a regular envelope. So I knew it would cost a little more to send. But after she put in on the scale and tapped on her screen, the postage price she quoted me seemed much more than I thought it should be.
Lacking the confidence to call her on it and since I couldn't remember the exact price it had been before, I backed down from trying to explain that I thought she was mistaken. I didn't want to make a commotion. It was just easier to give up. Not give up and pay the extra $1postage, that would be giving in. I would just have to make another trip another day when someone else was behind the counter.
Grumbling filled my mind and agitation filled my heart. "I should have this figured out by now. I should be able to easily mail a simple letter. Why do little things still stump me? Why does trying to run an errand leave me cross with myself and feeling like a lost child? 23 years in this land has gotten me nowhere. I still feel easily shaken and defeated with daily life."
Life in another country can do that to you. And missionary life can humble you.
If I stop and look at my trip to the post office from God's point of view, if I look with spiritual eyes and a receptive heart, then really... I should be glad...and grateful. For of course, I need humbling. Oh course I need to be reminded that I don't have life all figured out. I'm not as smooth and savvy as I think I am or try to look. I need God's help and grace each day, each step along my way. Even to do a minor, everyday task like posting a greeting across the ocean.
