Bugs in the Rice

I live somewhere in the South Pacific, rather near the equator. That's significantly far away from you. Far away geographically. Far away relationally. Far away emotionally. Far away culturally. I live in a different world from you and it's a hard world to live in and I'm afraid that because so few of my readers have ever been to this other world, it's hard for my readers to grasp what it means to live here. I'm afraid I must sound like I'm complaining all the time. But I'm on a pendulum of either making it seem as if everything is a wonderful bliss of victory serving God in this tropical island full of coconut trees and beautiful parrots, or divulging some of the frustrations of life... then wishing I didn't because I'm not sure you understand. And I'm not sure it helps anyway.

Anyway, there's a purpose to my divulging in frustrations today...

You see back in NZ, life was so plain easy. That's pretty much what it boils down to. Life was easy (although, at the time I sure found it hard). You might think I'm being idealistic and looking through the "rose-coloured" glasses to blurry images of the good ol' times. I dare you to come here and compare the two worlds. I think you'll find the West an easy place to live daily life. You can buy any food you want. And you can eat it. If you need a pair of sandals for your baby whose feet get cut on sharp stones and infected, well, you can find some... and good ones too! If you've run out of medicine, you go and get some more. When you have infections you see a doctor or get what you need to treat it. Your kitchen bench won't go mouldy in the space of a week. Your clothes don't perpetually smell of sweat. You can do a load of washing in the morning if you want. When you want to plant something in your garden, you buy what you want, plant it and it grows.

Things always worked, life had an ebb and flow, a busy one, but when you add up all the pros and cons, there's a whole lot of pros. Life is easy. A local woman I know recently moved back here from living in Australia for six years and people say to her, "why on earth did you come back? Why didn't you stay in Australia. It's so much better there." And it is. It really is. (Despite Robert Leckie's observation: "Poor Australia. Here, too, nature has witheld her favors." - Helmet for My Pillow)

You see in this part of the world, life is really hard. Just plain hard.

You're lucky if you can go supermarket shopping. You're lucky if you come back with 40% of the things on your list. You're lucky if you buy a pair of jandals that last more than a month, or don't get stolen before the week's out. You're lucky if someone sends you a much needed care package of vitamins to fight your infections. You are extremely blessed when God heals you, because there's no doctor that can help. You're lucky if the road is smooth. You're lucky if you can keep on top of the dust that blows in from the road. You're lucky when people don't stare at you in the street because you're so different from them. You're lucky when you can visit a cold place for 6 weeks and rid your body of Miliaria or heat rash that itches and rages over your body. You're lucky when you're not constantly misunderstood. You're lucky when your best friend brings you a plate of chocolate brownies (thanks Karen). You're lucky when you're not constantly sweating and exhausted from temperatures above 35 degrees celsius. You're lucky when people don't think that just because you're white, you're rich and you can solve all their problems. You're lucky when the ship is going. You're lucky when there's enough water. You're lucky when you know how to respond to the constant requests for money. You're lucky when there's enough food. You're lucky when you can positively help people in poverty. You're lucky when your telephone works. You're lucky when you open a packet of rice, pasta, flour etc and there are no bugs in there. No bugs in the rice. Bliss.

But you're not often lucky.

There are 4 types of missionary housewives. Those who filter all their rice to pick all the bugs out. Those who pick out only the ones they see. Those who freeze their rice for a few days to kill all the bugs. And those who just chuck the rice in the pan with water and enjoy the extra *gulp* nutrition.

There are often bugs in the rice. We often eat bugs.

And then comes the day that everything crumbles all at once, you are not so lucky all day and then you're cooking dinner and, yup, you guessed it, there are bugs in the rice.

And you close your eyes, holding the lids shut tightly to squeeze the tears back inside and you think back to the other world. The world you used to live in. And you sigh... because life is just so hard. And you turn back to picking out the bugs, or whatever your method happens to be.

But I'm glad that I live here and that I'm in this place where it is oh so very hard for one reason (so far). Because if I hadn't come here, I would never have found out that in the West my joy came from everything going well, the fact that the world there is easy. It never occurred to me before. But now that all that ease, and the wonderful sense of accomplishment, and the control I had over so much of my life and choices, now that all that has been taken away from me, I have seen that my joy has gone too. Because my joy was based on the wrong things. On there being no bugs in the rice. But now that there are bugs in the rice, and my joy level has correspondingly dropped, I need to find the real source of joy, because there just are simply few other things around to give me any sense of joy.

It's not that children, or food, or gardens, or work, or relationships shouldn't be enjoyable. But that's not what your joy should be founded on. When that is the foundation of your joy, well, when that's not there, your joy isn't there either.

Sometimes Jesus says things and it takes years to really find out what He means. I used to be confused about what God meant when He says that He gives strength to us when we are weak... then I became a High School Teacher. And then I learnt all to well what He means by giving strength to those who are failing.

Now I'm confused about joy. What does it really mean to get your joy from Jesus, to rejoice in the Lord? I'm not sure I know what it all means on a practical daily life kind of level, but I do know that's the kind of joy that can't get taken away by things like bugs in the rice, and life when it's really hard.

There's this beautiful gospel song we sing here:

"This Joy that I have, the world can't take it away.

This Joy that I have, oh the world can't take it away.

This Joy that I have, oh the world can't take it away.

The world didn't give it and the world can't take it away."

One day I'll sing that song to you... and then I think I'll really know what it means.