God is that he would create all of this and love me!” Though those two statements sound similar, they diverge sharply and, having diverged, end poles apart.
So Rebel Already
Look for the wonder. Look for the humor. Laugh at the darkness as a child of the light.
Don’t be afraid of the Godly Guffaw.
Read Chesterton.
Now, I’m not interested in ignorant bliss. I’m not promoting a happiness that exists only in the absence of pain. I’m advocating a worldview that views the world as it is, and then keeps looking. To see the world as it is, isolated and suspended in nothing, results in terror and too great a cognitive dissonance.
No, we must see the world as it is, without blinders, and then we must keep looking and see the great Actor who exists outside of (and inside of) the world.
His presence changes things. It must change things.
So look up.
Lift up your head and see the King.
Who is the King of glory?
The LORD, strong and mighty;
the LORD, invincible in battle.
Open up, ancient gates!
Open up, ancient doors,
and let the King of glory enter.
Who is the King of glory?
The LORD of heaven’s armies—
he is the King of glory.
(Ps 24:8–10)
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You love him even though you have never seen him. Though you do not see him now, you trust him; and you rejoice with a glorious, inexpressible joy.
(1 Pet 1:8)
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Come, everyone!
Clap your hands!
Shout to God with joyful praise!
For the LORD Most High is awesome.
He is the great King of all the earth.
(Ps 47:1–2)
14. Belmonte, Year with G.K. Chesterton, 124.
15. Belmonte, Year with G.K. Chesterton, 47.
16. Belmonte, Year with G.K. Chesterton, 95.
17. Belmonte, Year with G.K. Chesterton, 82.
18. Chesterton, in Belmonte, Year with G.K. Chesterton, 89.
Our First Month Abroad: the Journal Entries
by Elizabeth
He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us. (2 Cor 1:4)
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I almost didn’t publish the following journal entries, which I recorded during our first weeks in Cambodia. When I read them for the first time after a year, I was surprised by the intensity of my original feelings (although I’m nothing if not intense). I remembered that time as being bad, but not this bad. I’m sharing some of my journal here because I want 1) to give people hope, 2) to proclaim, along with Samuel, “thus far has the Lord helped us” (1 Sam 7:12 NIV), and 3) never to lose my compassion for those currently in the depths of despair.
I’m happy here now, and I’m no longer plagued by any of these yucks. We worked to correct some of them, while I simply became accustomed to others. The yays, however, persist—my dependence on worship, laughter, and a wonderful husband, haven’t changed at all.
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Arrival Date: January 16th, 2012.
Friday, January 20th
And there is absolutely nothing about this place that I don’t hate. Can’t think of any earthly reason why we shouldn’t just pack up and go back. So I pretty much don’t know how I’m ever going to survive here, let alone be happy again.
[Theme #1: My overreactor is dialed ALL the way up. You’ll see this repeated quite often.]
Sunday, January 22nd
Church was so good for my soul. “My life is in you, Lord. My strength is in You, Lord. My hope is in You, Lord. In You, it’s in You.” In worship today I just declared this to God, that he is my strength, my life, that I’m depending on him to sustain me and only he can do it. We sang about going whatever the cost and up the highest mountain and through the darkest valley. God reminded me that I’m here to stay. Not just in Cambodia, but in relationship with him. I’m not leaving him. I’m stubborn on this point.
So tired. Can barely stay awake after 5pm every day. Up six times last night with one child. There is so much dust here that has to be swept and mopped every day, and that gets old. It feels so futile. Just get up the next day to clean it all again. Everything here is so stinkin’ dangerous. Sharp corners on walls, slippery floors. So much more danger in general.
[Theme #2: My hope is dialed all the way down. Again, oft-repeated.]
[Theme #3: Worship music was my lifeline. You’ll see this one again too.]
Monday, January 23rd
Bought the wrong size diapers. Again. I can’t get this kilogram thing figured out! But I am doing better in general. So is Jonathan. Can’t wait to go back to church.
And good grief the mosquito bites. New ones each morning. So itchy. Jonathan had to fix some electrical wiring today. Plugs are never enough or in a convenient place. Can’t flush in the morning. Showers don’t drain well. The heat saps your energy. Driving saps energy—there seem to be no rules. The nationals and their police know the rules but we don’t. Street signs don’t exist and the roads aren’t N-S-E-W. Dirt is everywhere and has to be cleaned. Laundry must be hung and dishes washed by hand. (Did I mention I can’t wait to get a house helper?) The language barrier is huge and everything is in kg.
Tuesday, January 24th
I’m not particularly happy. I’m not particularly unhappy. I am particularly exhausted. Everything is so hard here but I keep plugging away. “Whatever.” That’s how I feel much of the time. I can laugh, however. We laugh all the time. Mostly at the stupidity of living here.
Everything is so stinkin’ dusty. Floors, furniture, stair railings. Even clean clothes smell like wood fire and spices. Annoying. One kid slept all night with the aid of Benadryl. Benadryl to another kid for his hundred mosquito bites. They were super bad in the house yesterday. Feet hurt excruciatingly badly. I need house shoes with arch support because I can barely walk. It’s so humid here, even in air conditioning, that my hair doesn’t dry at night.
[Theme #4: I can’t survive without laughter. Experts claim that the beginning of laughter signals the slow ascent out of the abyss of culture shock.]
Thursday, January 26th
Another day. Ugg. Why do I have to live here? I don’t want to live here. I don’t want to want to live here. And I don’t want to keep living. Life is easier back home and I want it. Everything bothers me. Why does it have to be so hard? Nothing comes ready-made. You have to do it yourself, and even then the electrical wiring comes apart. I hate mornings. Reminds me how unhappy I am. At least at night I can look forward to sleep.
I suppose one of these days these pages will be happier.